THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

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BILLY  GOES  ALOFT  BIRD-CATCHING.— PAGE  139. 


,  mmm  &  sjamimsfi, 


THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


THE   GOODWIN   SANDS. 


BY  R  M.  BALLANTYNE, 

AUTHOR  OF   "  EBLINO  THE  BOLD  ;"   "DEEP  DOWN;"   "  THE  LIFEBOAT  J 
"  THE  LIGHTHOUSE  ;"   "  FIGHTING  THE  FLAMES  ;"  BTC. 


With  Illustratiuas  bg  the 
C 


PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER, 

819  &  821  MARKET  STREET. 
1871. 


BZ/f 


PREFACE. 

THIS  tale,  reader — if  you  read  it  through — will  give 
you  some  insight  into  the  condition,  value,  and  vicis- 
situdes of  the  light-vessels,  or  floating  lighthouses, 
which  guard  the  shores  of  this  kingdom,  and  mark  the 
dangerous  shoals  lying  off  some  of  our  harbours  and 
roadsteads.  It  will  also  convey  to  you — if  you  don't 
skip — a  general  idea  of  the  life  and  adventures  of  some 
of  the  men  who  have  manned  these  interesting  and 
curious  craft  in  time  past,  as  well  as  give  you  some 
account  of  the  sayings  and  doings  of  several  other  per- 
sonages more  or  less  connected  with  our  coasts.  May 
you  read  it  with  pleasure  and  profit,  and — "  may  your 
shadow  never  be  less." 

I  gratefully  express  my  acknowledgment  and  tender 
my  best  thanks  to  the  Elder  Brethren  of  the  Trinity 
House,  to  whose  kindness  I  am  indebted  for  having  been 
permitted  to  spend  a  week  on  board  the  Gull-stream 
light-vessel,  one  of  the  three  floating-lights  which  mark 
the  Goodwin  Sands ;  and  to  Eobin  Allen,  Esq.,  Secre- 
tary to  the  Trinity  House,  who  has  kindly  furnished 

623676 


IV  PREFACE. 

me  with  valuable  books,  papers,  and  information.  I 
have  also  gratefully  to  tender  my  best  thanks  to  Captain 
Vaile,  District  Superintendent  under  the  Trinity  House 
at  Eamsgate,  for  the  ready  and  extremely  kind  manner 
in  which  he  afforded  me  every  facility  for  visiting  the 
various  light- vessels  and  buoys  of  his  district,  and  for 
observing  the  nature  and  duties  of  the  service. 

To  the  master  of  the  Gull,  whose  "  bunk"  I  occupied 
while  he  was  on  shore — to  Mr.  John  Leggett,  the  mate, 
who  was  in  command  during  the  period  of  my  visit — 
and  to  the  men  of  the  "  Floating-light "  I  have  to  offer 
my  heartfelt  thanks  for  not  only  receiving  me  with 
generous  hospitality,  but  for  treating  me  with  hearty 
goodwill  during  my  pleasant  sojourn  with  them  in  their 
interesting  and  peculiar  home. 

My  best  thanks,  for  much  useful  and  thrilling  infor- 
mation, are  due  to  Mr.  Isaac  Jarman,  the  coxswain,  and 
Mr.  Fish,  the  bowman,  of  the  Ramsgate  Lifeboat — men 
who  may  be  said  to  carry  their  lives  continually  in  their 
hands,  and  whose  profession  it  is  to  go  out  at  the  call 
of  duty  and  systematically  grapple  with  Death  and 
rob  him  of  his  prey.  To  the  Harbour  Master,  and 
Deputy  Harbour  Master  at  Ramsgate,  I  am  also  in- 
debted for  information  and  assistance,  and  to  Mr.  Reid, 
the  master  of  the  Aid  steam-tug  which  attends  upon, 
and  shares  the  perils  of,  the  Lifeboat. 

R.  M.  BALLANTYNE. 
EDINBURGH,  1870. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGF. 
CHAP.  I.— PARTICULAR  INQUIRIES,       ..••..          1 

H.— THE  FLOATING  LIGHT  BECOMES  THE  SCENE  OF  FLOAT- 

INGJ3URMISES  AND  VAGUE  SUSPICIONS,      ...        13 

m. — A  DISTURBED  NIGHT  ;   A  WRECK  AND  AN  UNEXPECTED 

RESCUE,   .          .          .          ,         .?,.#.,••-•          »        31 

IV. — A  NEW  pHARACTER  INTRODUCED,  ....        46 

V.— MORE  NEW  CHARACTERS  INTRODUCED,  .         .         .       64 

VI.— THE  TEMPTER  AND  THE  TEMPTED,          .         .         .         .68 

VLT. — TREATS  OF  QUEEKER  AND  OTHERS — ALSO  OF  YOUTHFUL 

JEALOUSY,  LOVE,  POETRY,  AND  CONFUSION  OF  IDEAS,        86 

Tin.— THE  SLOOP  NORA— MR.  JONES  BECOMES  COMMUNICA- 
TIVE, AND  BILLY  TOWLER,  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME  IN 
HtS  LIFE,  THOUGHTFUL,  .  •  ,  .  .  .  108 

E.— MR.  JONES  TAKES  STRONG  MEASURES  TO  SECURE  HIS 
ENDS,  AND  INTRODUCES  HIS  FRIEND  TO  SOME  NEW 
SCENES  AND  INCIDENTS, 122 

f 
X—  TREATS   OF  TENDER   SUBJECTS  OF  A  PECULIAR   KIND, 

AND  SHOWS  HOW  BILLY  TOWLEB  GOT  INTO  SCRAPES 
AND  OUT  OF  THEM, 147 

XI.— THE    ANCIENT    CORPORATION    OP^  TRINITY  HOUSE   OF 

DEFTFORD  STROND, 173 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAOB 

CHAP.  XII. — STRANGE  SIGHTS  AND  SCENES  ON  LAND  AND  SEA,        .  188 

XIII. — ROBERT  QTJEEKER  COMES  OUT  VERT  STRONG  INDEED,  205 

XIV.— THE   LAMPLIGHTER   AT  HOME,— THREATENING   AP- 
PEARANCES,             230 

XV.— A   NIGHT   OP   WRECK   AND   DISASTER  — THE    GULL 

"  COMES  TO  GRIEF,"       ......  248 

XVI.— GETTING  READT  FOR  ACTION,    .          •          .          ,          .  267 

XVII.— THE  BATTLE,     ........  274 

XVIII. — SHOWS    THAT    THERE   ARE    NO    EFFECTS   WITHOUT 

ADEQUATE  CAUSES,         ......  301 

XIX.— CONFIDENCES  AND  CROSS  PURPOSES,           ,         ,         .  814 

XX.— MYSTERIOUS  DOINGS, 325 

XXI.— ON  THE  SCENT,           .......  343 

XXII.— MR.     JONES    IS    OUTWITTED,    AND    NORA    IS    LEFT 

DESOLATE, 354 

XXIII.— TELLS    OP   AN   UNLOOKED-FOR    RETURN,    AND    DE- 
SCRIBES A  GREAT  FEAST, 872 

XXTV.— CONCLUSION, 396 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTEATIONS. 

BILLY  GOES  ALOFT  BIRD-CATCHING  (p.  139)         .          ,  Frontispiece 

VIGNETTE  TITLE. 

A  SMALL  DECEIVER,        ......         toface  page  64 

SHIFTING  THE  BUOYS, 161 

DICK  MOT  AT  HOME, .  232 

THE  LIFEBOAT  RESCUE,    ..••••«.  294 

c 


THE  FLOATING  LIGHT  OF  THE 
GOODWIN  SANDS: 

A  TALE. 
CHAPTER   I. 

PARTICULAR  INQUIRIES. 

A  LIGHT — clear,  ruddy  and  brilliant,  like  a  huge 
carbuncle — uprose  one  evening  from  the  deep,  and 
remained  hovering  about  forty  feet  above  the  sur- 
face, scattering  its  rays  far  and  wide,  over  the  Downs 
to  Eamsgate  and  Deal,  along  the  coast  towards 
Dover,  away  beyond  the  North  Foreland,  across  the 
Goodwin  Sands,  and  far  out  upon  the  bosom  of  the 
great  North  Sea. 

It  was  a  chill  November  evening,  when  this  light 
arose,  in  the  year — well,  it  matters  not  what  year.. 
We  have  good  reasons,  reader,  for  shrouding  this 
point  in  mystery.  It  may  have  been  recently ;  it 
may  have  been  "  long,  long  ago."  We  don't  intend 
to  tell.  It  was  not  the  first  time  of  that  light's 

A 


2  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

appearance,  and  it  certainly  was  not  the  last.  Let  it 
suffice  that  what  we  are  about  to  relate  did  happen, 
sometime  or  other  within  the  present  century. 

Besides  being  cold,  the  evening  in  question  was 
somewhat  stormy — "  gusty,"  as  was  said  of  it  by  a 
traveller  with  a  stern  visage  and  remarkably  keen 
grey  eyes,  who  entered  the  coffee-room  of  an  hotel 
which  stood  on  the  margin  of  Eamsgate  harbour 
facing  the  sea,  and  from  the  upper  windows  of 
which  the  light  just  mentioned  was  visible. 

"It  is,  sir,"  said  the  waiter,  in  reply  to  the 
"  gusty "  observation,  stirring  the  fire  while  the 
traveller  divested  himself  of  his  hat  and  greatcoat. 

"Think  it's  going  to  blow  hard?"  inquired  the 
traveller,  planting  himself  firmly  on  the  hearth-rug, 
with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  his  thumbs  hooked 
into  the  armholes  of  his  waistcoat. 

"  It  may,  sir,  and  it  may  not,"  answered  the  waiter, 
with  the  caution  of  a  man  who  has  resolved,  come 
what  may,  never  to  commit  himself.  "  Sometimes 
it  comes  on  to  blow,  sir,  w'en  we  don't  look  for  it ; 
at  other  times  it  falls  calm  w'en  we  least  expects  it. 
I  don't  pretend  to  understand  much  about  the 
weather  myself,  sir,  but  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it 
was  to  come  on  to  blow  'ard.  It  ain't  an  uncommon 
thing  at  Eamsgate,  sir." 

The  traveller,  who  was  a  man  of  few  words,  said 
"  Humph !"  to  which  the  waiter  dutifully  replied 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  3 

"Yessir,"  feeling,  no  doubt,  that  the  observation 
was  too  limited  to  warrant  a  lengthened  rejoinder. 

The  waiter  of  the  Fortress  Hotel  had  a  pleasant, 
sociable,  expressive  "countenance,  which  beamed 
into  a  philanthropic  smile  as  he  added, — 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  sir?" 

"  Yes — tea,"  answered  the  traveller  with  the  keen 
grey  eyes,  turning,  and  poking  the  fire  with  the  heel 
of  his  boot. 

"Anything  with  it,  sir?"  asked  the  waiter  with 
that  charmingly  confident  air  peculiar  to  his  class, 
which  induces  one  almost  to  believe  that  if  a  plate 
of  elephant's  foot  or  a  slice  of  crocodile's  tail  were 
ordered  it  would  be  produced,  hot,  in  a  few  minutes. 

"D'you  happen  to  know  a  man  of  the  name  of 
Jones  in  the  town?"  demanded  the  traveller,  facing 
round  abruptly. 

The  waiter  replied  that  he  had  the  pleasure  of 
knowing  at  least  seven  Joneses  in  the  town. 

"  Does  one  of  the  seven  deal  largely  in  cured  fish 
and  own  a  small  sloop  ?"  asked  the  traveller. 

"Yessir,  he  do,  but  he  don't  live  in  Eamsgate; 
he  belongs  to  Yarmouth,  sir,  comes  'ere  only  now 
and  then." 

"  D'  you  know  anything  about  him  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  he  don't  frequent  this  'otel." 

The  waiter  said  this  in  a  tone  which  showed  that 
he  deemed  that  fact  sufficient  to  render  Jones 


4  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

altogether  unworthy  of  human  interest;  "but  I 
believe,"  he  added  slowly,  "  that  he  is  said  to  'ave 
plenty  of  money,  bears  a  bad  character,  and  is  rather 
fond  of  his  bottle,  sir." 

"You  know  nothing  more  ?" 

"  Nothing,  sir." 

"  Ham  and  eggs,  dry  toast  and  shrimps,"  said  the 
keen- eyed  traveller  in  reply  to  the  reiterated  ques- 
tion. 

Before  these  viands  were  placed  on  the  table  the 
brief  twilight  had  passed  away  and  darkness  en- 
shrouded land  and  sea.  After  they  had  been  con- 
sumed the  traveller  called  for  the  latest  local  paper, 
to  which  he  devoted  himself  for  -an  hour  with 
unflagging  zeal — reading  it  straight  through,  appar- 
ently, advertisements  and  all,  with  as  much  diligence 
as  if  it  were  a  part  of  his  professional  business  to  do 
so.  Then  he  tossed  it  away,  rang  the  bell,  and 
ordered  a  candle. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  pointing  towards  the  sea,  as 
he  was  about  to  quit  the  room,  "  that  that  is  the 
floating  light  ?" 

"  It  is  one  of  'em,  sir,"  replied  the  waiter.  "  There 
are  three  lights  on  the  sands,  sir ;  the  Northsan  'ead, 
the  Gull-stream,  and  the  Southsan  'ead.  That  one, 
sir,  is  the  GulL" 

"  How  far  off  may  it  be  ?" 

"  About  four  miles,  sir.'- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  5 

"  What  is  the  mate's  name  ?" 

"  Welton,  sir,  John  Welton." 

"  Is  he  aboard  just  now  ?" 

"  Yessir,  it 's  the  master's  month  ashore.  The 
master  and  mate  'ave  it  month  an'  month  about,  sir 
— one  month  afloat,  next  month  ashore ;  but  it 
seems  to  me,  sir,  that  they  have  'arder  work  w'en 
ashore  than  they  'ave  w'en  afloat — lookin'  after  the 
Trinity  stores,  sir,  an'  goin'  off  in  the  tender  to  shift 
and  paint  the  buoys  an'  such  like ;  but  then  you 
see,  sir,  w'en  it 's  their  turn  ashore  they  always  gits 
home  to  spend  the  nights  with  their  families,  sir, 
w'ich  is  a  sort  of  compensation,  as  it  were, — that's 
where  it  is,  sir." 

"  Humph  !  d'  you  know  what  time  it  is  slack  water 
out  there  in  the  afternoon  just  now  ?" 

"  About  three  o'clock,  sir." 

"Call  me  at  nine  to-morrow;  breakfast  at  half- 
past  ;  beefsteaks,  coffee,  dry  toast.  Good-night." 

"Yessir — good-night,  sir — No.  27,  sir,  first  floor, 
left-hand  side." 

No.  27  slammed  his  door  with  that  degree  of  vio- 
lence which  indicates  a  stout  arm  and  an  easy  con- 
science. In  less  than  quarter  of  an  hour  the  keen 
grey  eyes  were  veiled  in  slumber,  as  was  proved 
unmistakeably  to  the  household  by  the  sounds  that 
proceeded  from  the  nose  to  which  these  eyes  be- 
longed. 


.       ,  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

It  is  not  unfrequently  found  that  strength  of 
mind,  vigour  of  body,  high  colour,  and  a  tremendous 
appetite  are  associated  with  great  capacity  for  snor- 
ing. The  man  with  the  keen  grey  eyes  possessed 
all  these  qualities,  as  well  as  a  large  chin  and  a  firm 
mouth,  full  of  very  strong  white  teeth.  He  also 
possessed  the  convenient  power  of  ability  to  go  to 
sleep  at  a  moment's  notice  and  to  remain  in  that  feli- 
citous condition  until  he  chose  to  awake.  His  order 
to  be  "  called"  in  the  morning  had  reference  merely 
to  hot  water ;  for  at  the  time  of  which  we  write 
men  were  still  addicted  to  the  ridiculous  practice 
of  shaving- -a  practice  which,  as  every  one  knows, 
is  now  confined  chiefly  to  very  old  men — who 
naturally  find  it  difficult  to  give  up  the  bad  habit 
of  a  lifetime — and  to  little  boys,  who  erroneously 
suppose  that  the  use  of  a  sharp  penknife  will  hasten 
Nature's  operations. 

Exactly  at  nine  o'clock,  a  knock  at  the  door  and 
"  'Ot  water,  sir,"  sounded  in  the  ears  of  No.  2  7.  At 
half-past  nine  precisely  No.  27  entered  the  coffee- 
room,  and  was  so  closely  followed  by  the  waiter  with 
breakfast  that  it  seemed  as  if  that  self-sacrificing 
functionary  had  sat  up  all  night  keeping  the  meal 
hot  in  order  to  testify,  by  excessive  punctuality,  the 
devotion  of  his  soul  to  duty. 

The  keen -eyed  man  had  a  keen  appetite,  if  one 
might  judge  from  appearances  in  such  a  matter.  A 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAXDS.  7 

thick  underdone  steak  that  overwhelmed  his  plate 
appeared  to  melt  away  rapidly  from  before  him. 
Potatoes  he  disposed*  of  in  two  bites  each ;  small 
ones  were  immolated  whole.  Of  mustard  he  used 
as  much  as  might  have  made  a  small-sized  plaster ; 
pepper  he  sowed  broadcast ;  he  made  no  account 
whatever  of  salt,  and  sugar  was  as  nothing  before 
him.  There  was  a  peculiar  crash  in  the  sound 
produced  by  the  biting  of  his  toast,  which  was  sug- 
gestive at  once  of  irresistible  power  and  thorough 
disintegration.  Coffee  went  down  in  half-cup  gulps ; 
shrimps  disappeared  in  shoals,  shells  and  all;  and 
— in  short,  his  proceedings  might  have  explained  to 
an  intelligent  observer  how  it  is  that  so  many  men 
grow  to  be  exceedingly  fat,  and  why  it  is  that  hotel 
proprietors  cannot  afford  to  lower  their  apparently 
exorbitant  charges.  The  waiter,  standing  modestly 
by,  and  looking  on  with  solemn  interest,  mentally 
attributed  the  traveller's  extraordinary  powers  and 
high  health  to  the  fact  that  he  neither  smoked  nor 
drank.  It  would  be  presumptuous  in  us  to  hazard  a 
speculation  on  this  subject  in  the  face  of  an  opinion 
held  by  one  who  was  so  thoroughly  competent  to 
judge. 

Breakfast  over,  the  keen-eyed  man  put  on  his  hat 
and  overcoat  and  sallied  forth  to  the  harbour,  where 
he  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  forenoon  in  loiter- 
ing about,  inspecting  the  boats — particularly  the 


8  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

lifeboat —and  the  shipping  with  much  interest,  and 
entering  into  conversation  with  the  boatmen  who 
lounged  upon  the  pier.  He  was  very  gracious  to 
the  coxswain  of  the  lifeboat — a  bluff,  deep-chested, 
hearty,  neck-or-nothing  sort  of  man,  with  an  in- 
telligent eye,  almost  as  keen  as  his  own,  and  a 
manner  quite  as  prompt.  With  this  coxswain  he 
conversed  long  about  the  nature  of  his  stirring  and 
dangerous  duties.  He'  then  made  inquiry  about 
his  crew :  how  many  men  he  had,  and  their  cir- 
cumstances ;  and,  by  the  way,  whether  any  of  them 
happened  to  be  named  Jones.  One  of  them  was  so 
named,  the  coxswain  said — Tom  Jones.  This  led 
the  traveller  to  ask  if  Tom  Jones  owned  a  small 
sloop.  No,  he  didn't  own  a  sloop,  not  even  a  boat. 
Was  there  any  other  Jones  in  the  town  who  owned 
a  small  sloop  and  dealt  largely  in  cured  fish  ?  Yes 
there  was,  and  he  was  a  regular  gallow's-bird,  if  all 
reports  were  true,  the  coxswain  told  him. 

The  traveller  did  not  press  the  subject  long. 
Having  brought  it  up  as  it  were  incidentally,  he 
dismissed  it  carelessly,  and  again  concentrated  his 
attention  and  interest  on  the  lifeboat. 

To  all  the  men  with  whom  he  conversed  this 
bluff  man  with  the  keen  grey  eyes  put  the  same 
question,  and  he  so  contrived  to  put  it  that  it 
seemed  to  be  a  matter  of  comparatively  little  in- 
terest to  him  whether  there  was  or  was  not  a  man 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  9 

of  the  name  of  Jones  in  the  town,  Nevertheless, 
he  gained  all  the  information  about  Jones  that  he 
desired,  and  then,  hiring  a  boat,  set  out  for  the  float- 
ing light. 

The  weather,  that  had  appeared  threatening  during 
the  night,  suddenly  became  calm  and  fine,  as  if  to 
corroborate  the  statement  of  the  waiter  of  the  For- 
tress Hotel  in  regard  to  its  uncertainty  ;  but  know- 
ing men  in  oilcloth  sou'westers  and  long  boots  gave 
it  as  their  opinion  that  the  weather  was  not  to  be 
trusted.  Fortunately  for  the  traveller,  it  remained 
trustworthy  long  enough  to  serve  his  purpose.  The 
calm  permitted  his  boat  to  go  safely  alongside  of 
the  light-ship,  and  to  climb  up  the  side  without 
difficulty. 

The  vessel  in  which  he  found  himself  was  not  by 
any  means  what  we  should  style  clipper-built — 
quite  the  reverse.  It  was  short  for  its  length,  bluff 
in  the  bows,  round  in  the  stern,  and  painted  all 
over,  excepting  the  mast  and  deck,  of  a  bright  red 
colour,  like  a  great  scarlet  dragon,  or  a  gigantic 
boiled  lobster.  It  might  have  been  mistaken  for 
the  first  attempt  in  the  ship-building  way  of  an 
infatuated  boy,  whose  acquaintance  with  ships  was 
founded  on  hearsay,  and  whose  taste  in  colour  was 
violently  eccentric.  This  remarkable  thing  had  one 
immense  mast  in  the  middle  of  it,  supported  by  six 
stays,  like  the  Norse  galleys  of  old,  but  it  had  no 


10  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

yards  ;  for,  although  the  sea  was  indeed  its  home, 
and  it  incessantly  braved  the  fury  of  the  storm, 
diurnally  cleft  the  waters  of  flood  and  ebb-tide,  and 
gallantly  breasted  the  billows  of  ocean  all  the  year 
round,  it  had  no  need  of  sails.  It  never  advanced 
an  inch  on  its  course,  for  it  had  no  course.  It  never 
made  for  any  port.  It  was  never  either  homeward 
or  outward  bound.  No  streaming  eyes  ever  watched 
its  departure  ;  no  beating  hearts  ever  hailed  its 
return.  Its  bowsprit  never  pointed  either  to  "  Green- 
land's icy  mountains,  or  India's  coral  strand,"  for  it 
had  no  bowsprit  at  all.  Its  helm  was  never  swayed 
to  port  or  starboard,  although  it  Md  a  helm,  because 
the  vessel  turned  submissive  with  the  tides,  and  its 
rudder,  being  lashed  hard  and  fast  amidships — like 
most  weather-cocks — couldn't  move.  Its  doom  was 
to  tug  perpetually,  day  and  night,  from  year  to  year, 
at  a  gigantic  anchor  which  would  not  let  go,  and  to 
strain  at  a  monster  chain- cable  which  would  not 
snap — in  short,  to  strive  for  ever,  like  Sisyphus, 
after  something  which  can  never  be  attained. 

A  sad  destiny,  some  may  be  tempted  to  exclaim. 
No,  reader,  not  so  sad  as  it  appears.  We  have  pre- 
sented but  one  side  of  the  picture.  That  curious, 
almost  ridiculous-looking  craft,  was  among  the  aris- 
tocracy of  shipping.  Its  important  office  stamped 
it  with  nobility.  It  lay  there,  conspicuous  in  its 
royal  colour,  from  day  to  day  and  year  to  year,  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  1 1 

mark  the  fair- way  between  the  white  cliffs  of  Old 
England  and  the  outlying  shoals — distinguished  in 
daylight  by  a  huge  ball  at  its  mast-head,  and  at 
night  by  a  magnificent  lantern  with  argand  lamps 
and  concave  reflectors,  which  shot  its  rays  like 
lightning  far  and  wide  over  the  watery  waste,  while, 
in  thick  weather,  when  neither  ball  nor  light  could 
be  discerned,  a  sonorous  gong  gave  its  deep-toned 
warning  to  the  approaching  mariner,  and  let  him 
know  his  position  amid  the  surrounding  dangers. 
Without  such  warnings  by  night  and  by  day,  the 
world  would  suffer  the  loss  of  thousands  of  lives  and 
untold  millions  of  gold.  Indeed  the  mere  absence 
of  such  warnings  for  one  stormy  night  would  cer- 
tainly result  in  loss  irreparable  to  life  and  property. 
As  well  might  Great  Britain  dispense  with  her 
armies  as  with  her  floating  lights  !  That  boiled- 
lobster-like  craft  was  also,  if  we  may  be  allowed 
to  say  so,  stamped  with  magnanimity,  because  its 
services  were  disinterested  and  universal  While 
other  ships  were  sailing  grandly  to  their  ports  in 
all  their  canvas  panoply,  and  swelling  with  the 
pride  of  costly  merchandise  within,  each  unmindful 
of  the  other,  this  ship  remained  floating  there,  desti- 
tute of  cargo,  either  rich  or  poor,  never  in  port, 
always  on  service,  serene  in 'all  the  majesty  of  her 
one  settled  self-sacrificing  purpose — to  guide  the 
converging  navies  of  the  world  safely  past  the  dan- 


12  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

gerous  shoals  that  meet  them  on  their  passage  to  the 
world's  greatest  port,  the  Thames,  or  to  speed  them 
safely  thence  when  outward-bound.  That  unclip- 
perly  craft,  moreover,  was  a  gallant  vessel,  because 
its  post  was  one  of  danger.  When  other  ships  fled 
on  the  wings  of  terror — or  of  storm  trysails — to 
seek  refuge  in  harbour  and  roadstead,  this  one 
merely  lengthened  her  cable — as  a  knight  might 
shake  loose  the  reins  of  his  war-horse  on  the  eve  of 
conflict — and  calmly  awaited  the  issue,  prepared  to 
let  the  storm  do  its  worst,  and  to  meet  it  with  a 
bold  front.  It  lay  right  in  the  Channel,  too,  "  i'  the 
imminent  deadly  breach,"  as  it  were,  prepared  to 
risk  encounter  with  the  thousands  of  ships,  great 
and  small,  which  passed  to  and  fro  continually  ; — 
to  be  grazed  and  fouled  by  clumsy  steersmen,  and 
to  be  run  into  at  night  by  unmanageable  wrecks  or 
derelicts  ;  ready  for  anything  in  fact — come  weal 
come  woe,  blow  high  blow  low — in  the  way  of  duty, 
for  this  vessel  was  the  Floating  Light  that  marked 
the  Gull-stream  off  the  celebrated  and  fatal  Goodwin 
Sands. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  13 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  FLOATING  LIGHT  BECOMES  THE  SCENE  OF  FLOATING  SURMISES 
AND  VAGUE  SUSPICIONS. 

IT  must  not  be  supposed,  from  what  has  "been 
said,  that  the  Gull  Lightship  was  the  only  vessel  of 
the  kind  that  existed  at  that  time.  But  she  was  a 
good  type  of  the  class  of  vessels  (numbering  at  pre- 
sent about  sixty)  to  which  she  belonged,  and,  both 
as  regarded  her  situation  and  duties,  was,  and  still 
is,  one  of  the  most  interesting  among  the  floating 
lights  of  the  kingdom. 

When  the  keen-eyed  traveller  stepped  upon  her 
\v  ell-scrubbed  deck,  he  was  courteously  received  by 
the  mate,  Mr.  John  Welton,  a  strongly-built  man 
above  six  feet  in  height,  with  a  profusion  of  red 
hair,  huge  whiskers,  and  a  very  peculiar  expression 
of  countenance,  in  which  were  united  calm  self- 
possession,  coolness,  and  firmness,  with  great  good- 
humour  and  affability. 

"  You  are  Mr.  Welton,  I  presume  ?"  said  the  tra- 
veller abruptly,  touching  his  hat  with  his  forefinger 


14  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

in  acknowledgment  of  a  similar  salute  from  the 
mate. 

"  That  is  my  name,  sir." 

"  Will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  read  this  letter  ?" 
said  the  traveller,  selecting  a  document  from  a  portly 
pocket-book,  and  presenting  it. 

Without  reply  the  mate  unfolded  the  letter  and 
quietly  read  it  through,  after  which  he  folded  and 
returned  it  to  his  visitor,  remarking  that  he  should 
be  happy  to  furnish  him  with  all  the  information  he 
desired,  if  he  would  do  him  the  favour  to  step  down 
into  the  cabin. 

"I  may  set  your  mind  at  rest  on  one  point  at 
once,"  observed  the  stranger,  as  he  moved  towards 
the  companion-hatch,  "my  investigations  have  no 
reference  whatever  to  yourself." 

Mr.  Welton  made  no  reply,  but  a  slight  look  of 
perplexity  that  had  rested  on  his  brow  while  he 
read  the  letter  cleared  away. 

"Follow  me,  Mr.  Larks,"  he  said,  turning  and 
descending  the  ladder  sailor-fashion — which  means 
crab-wise. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  know  anything,"  asked  Mr. 
Larks,  as  he  prepared  to  follow,  "  about  a  man  of  the 
name  of  Jones  ?  I  have  come  to  inquire  particularly 
about  him,  and  about  your  son,  who,  I  am  told — " 

The  remainder  of  the  sentence  was  lost  in  the 
cabin  of  the  floating  light.  Here,  with  the  door  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  15 

skylight  shut,  the  mate  remained  closeted  for  a  long 
time  in  close  conference  with  the  keen-eyed  man, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  the  two  men  who  constituted 
the  watch  on  deck,  because  visitors  of.  any  kind  to 
a  floating  light  were  about  as  rare  as  snowflakes  in 
July,  and  the  sudden  advent  of  a  visitor,  who  looked 
and  acted  mysteriously,  was  in  itself  a  profound 
mystery.  Their  curiosity,  however,  was  only  gratified 
to  this  extent,  that  they  observed  the  stranger  and 
the  mate  through  the  skylight  bending  earnestly  over 
several  newspapers  spread  out  before  them  on  the 
cabin  table. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  keen-eyed  man  re-ap- 
peared on  deck,  bade  the  mate  an  abrupt  good-bye, 
nodded  to  the  men  who  held  the  ropes  for  him, 
descended  into  the  boat,  and  took  his  departure  for 
the  shore  whence  he  had  come. 

By  this  time  the  sun  was  beginning  to  approach 
the  horizon.  The  mate  of  the  floating  light  took 
one  or  two  turns  on  the  deck,  at  which  he  gazed 
earnestly,  as  if  his  future  destiny  were  written  there. 
He  then  glanced  at  the  compass  and  at  the  vessel's 
bow,  after  which  he  leant  over  the  side  of  the  red- 
dragon,  and  looked  down  inquiringly  at  the  flow  of 
the  tide.  Presently  his  attention  was  fixed  on  the 
shore,  behind  which  the  sun  was  about  to  set,  and, 
after  a  time,  he  directed  a  stern  look  towards  the 
sky,  as  if  he  were  about  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  that 


16  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

part  of  the  universe,  but  thinking  better  of  it, 
apparently,  he  unbent  his  brows,  let  his  eyes  fall 
again  on  the  deck,  and  muttered  to  himself,  "  H'm  ! 
I  expected  as  much." 

What  it  was  that  he  expected,  Mr.  John  Welton 
never  told  from  that  day  to  this,  so  it  cannot  be  re- 
corded here,  but,  after  stating  the  fact,  he  crossed  his 
arms  on  his  broad  chest,  and,  leaning  against  the 
stern  of  his  vessel,  gazed  placidly  along  the  deck,  as 
if  he  were  taking  a  complacent  survey  of  the  vast 
domain  over  which  he  ruled. 

It  was  an  interesting  kingdom  in  detail.  Leaving 
out  of  view  all  that  which  was  behind  him,  and 
which,  of  course,  he  could  not  see,  we  may  remark 
that,  just  before  him  stood  the  binnacle  and  compass, 
and  the  cabin  skylight.  On  his  right  and  left  the 
territory  of  the  quarter-deck  was  seriously  circum- 
scribed, and  the  promenade  much  interfered  with,  by 
the  ship's  boats,  which,  like  their  parent,  were  painted 
red,  and  which  did  not  hang  at  the  davits,  but,  like 
young  lobsters  of  the  kangaroo  type,  found  shelter 
within  their  mother,  when  not  at  sea  on  their  own 
account.  Near  to  them  were  two  signal-carronades. 
Beyond  the  skylight  rose  the  bright  brass  funnel  of 
the  cabin  chimney,  and  the  winch,  by  means  of  which 
the  lantern  was  hoisted.  Then  came  another  sky- 
light, and  the  companion-hatch  about  the  centre  of 
the  deck.  Just  beyond  this  stood  the  most  impor- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  1 7 

tant  part  of  the  vessel — the  lantern-house.  This  was  a 
circular  wooden  structure,  above  six  feet  in  diameter, 
with  a  door  and  small  windows.  Inside  was  the 
lantern — the  beautiful  piece  of  costly  mechanism  for 
which  the  light- ship,  its  crew,  and  its  appurtenances 
were  maintained.  Eight  through  the  centre  of  this 
house  rose  the  thick  unyielding  mast  of  the  vessel. 
The  lantern,  which  was  just  a  little  less  than  its 
house,  surrounded  this  mast  and  travelled  upon  it. 
Beyond  this  the  capital  of  the  kingdom,  the  eye  of 
the  monarch  was  arrested  by  another  bright  brass 
funnel,  which  was  the  chimney  of  the  galley-fire,  and 
indicated  the  exact  position  of  the  abode  of  the  crew, 
or — to  continue  our  metaphor — the  populace,  who, 
however,  required  no  such  indicator  to  tell  of  their 
existence  or  locality,  for  the  chorus  of  a  "  nigger" 
melody  burst  from  them,  ever  and  anon,  through 
every  opening  in  the  decks,  with  jovial  violence,  as 
they  sat,  busily  engaged  on  various  pieces  of  work 
below.  The  more  remote  parts  of  this  landscape — 
or  light-scape,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression — 
were  filled  up  with  the  galley-skylight,  the  bitts,  and 
the  windlass,  above  which  towered  the  gong,  and 
around  which  twined  the  two  enormous  chain  cables. 
Only  one  of  these,  however,  was  in  use — that,  with  a 
single  mushroom- anchor,  being  sufficient  to  hold  the 
ship  securely  against  tide  and  tempest. 

In  reference  to  this  we  may  remark  in  passing 
B 


18  TUB  FLOATING  LIGII  r 

that  the  cable  of  a  floating  light  is  frequently  re- 
newed, and  that  the  chafing  of  the  links  at  the 
hawse-hole  is  distributed  by  the  occasional  paying 
out  or  hauling  in  of  a  few  yards  of  chain — a  process 
which  is  styled  "  easing  the  nip." 

"  Horroo !  me  hearty,  ye  're  as  clain  as  a  lady's 
watch,"  exclaimed  a  man  of  rugged  form  but  pleasant 
countenance,  as  he  issued  from  the  small  doorway  of 
the  lantern-house  with  a  bundle  of  waste  in  one 
hand  and  an  oil-can  in  the  other. 

This  was  one  of  the  lamplighters  of  the  light -ship 
— Jerry  MacGowl — a  man  whose  whole  soul  was,  so 
to  speak,  in  that  lantern.  It  was  his  duty  to  clip 
and  trim  the  wicks,  and  fill  the  lamps,  and  polish  the 
reflectors  and  brasses,  and  oil  the  joints  and  wheels 
(for  this  was  a  revolving — in  other  words  a  flashing 
light),  and  clean  the  glasses  and  windows.  As  there 
were  nine  lights  to  attend  to,  and  get  ready  for 
nightly  service,  it  may  be  easily  understood  that  the 
lamplighter's  duty  was  no  sinecure. 

The  shout  of  Jerry  recalled  the  king  from  his  con- 
templation of  things  in  general  to  the  lantern  in 
particular. 

"  All  ready  to  hoist,  Jerry  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Wei- 
ton,  going  forward. 

"  All  ready,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  man,  looking  at 
his  handiwork  with  admiration,  and  carefully  re- 
moving a  speck  of  dust  that  had  escaped  his  notice 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  19 

from  one  of  the  plate-glass  windows ;  "  An't  she  a 
purty  thing  now  ? — baits  the  best  Ginaiva  watch  as 
iver  was  made.  Ye  might  ait  yer  supper  off  her 
floor  and  shave  in  the  reflictors." 

"  That 's  a  fact,  Jerry,  with  no  end  of  oil  to  your 
salad  too,"  said  Mr.  Welton,  surveying  the  work  of 
the  lamplighter  with  a  critical  eye. 

"  True  for  ye,"  replied  Jerry,  "  an'  as  much  cotton 
waste  as  ye  like  without  sinful  extravagance." 

"  The  sun  will  be  down  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  the 
mate,  turning  round  and  once  more  surveying  the 
western  horizon. 

Jerry  admitted  that,  judging  from  past  experi- 
ence, there  was  reason  to  believe  in  the  probability 
of  that  event ;  and  then,  being  of  a  poetical  tempera- 
ment, he  proceeded  to  expatiate  upon  the  beauty  of 
the  evening,  which  was  calm  and  serene. 

"  D'  ye  know,  sir,"  he  said,  gazing  towards  the 
shore,  between  which  and  the  floating  light  a 
magnificent  fleet  of  merchant-men  lay  at  anchor 
waiting  for  a  breeze — each  vessel  reflected  clearly 
in  the  water  along  with  the  dazzling  clouds  of  gold 
that  towered  above  the  setting  sun — "  D'  ye  know, 
sir,  I  niver  sees  a  sky  like  that  but  it  minds  me  o' 
the  blissid  green  hills  an'  purty  lakes  of  owld  Ire- 
land, an'  fills  me  buzzum  wid  a  sort  of  inspiration 
till  it  feels  fit  a'most  to  bust." 

"  You  should  have  been  a  poet,  Jerry,"  observed 


20  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  mate,  in  a  contemplative  tone,  as  he  surveyed 
the  shipping  through  his  telescope. 

"  Just  what  I  've  often  thought  mesilf,  sir,"  replied 
Jerry,  wiping  his  forehead  with  the  bunch  of  waste — 
"  many  a  time  I  've  said  to  mesilf,  in  a  thoughtful 
mood — 

Wan  little  knows  what  dirty  clo'es 

May  kiver  up  a  poet ; 
What  fires  may  burn  an'  flout  an'  sk  urn, 

An'  no  wan  iver  know  it." 

"  That 's  splendid,  Jerry ;  but  what 's  the  meanin' 
of  'skurn?'" 

"  Sorrow  wan  of  me  knows,  sir,  but  it  conveys  the 
idee  somehow;  don't  it,  now?" 

"  I  'm  not  quite  sure  that  it  does,"  said  the  mate, 
walking  aft  and  consulting  his  chronometer  for  the 
last  time,  after  which  he  put  his  head  down  the 
hatchway  and  shouted,  "  Up  lights ! "  in  a  deep 
sonorous  voice. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  came  the  ready  response  from  below, 
followed  by  the  prompt  appearance  of  the  other 
lamplighter  and  the  four  seamen  who  composed 
the  crew  of  the  vessel.  Jerry  turned  on  his  heel, 
murmuring,  in  a  tone  of  pity,  that  the  mate,  poor 
man,  "  had  no  soul  for  poethry." 

Five  of  the  crew  manned  the  winch ;  the  mate 
and  Jerry  went  to  a  block-tackle  which  was  also 
connected  with  the  lifting  apparatus.  Then  the 
order  to  hoist  was  given,  and  immediately  after,  just 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  21 

as  the  sun  went  down,  the  floating  light  went  up, — 
a  modest  yet  all-important  luminary  of  the  night. 
Slowly  it  rose,  for  the  lantern  containing  it  weighed 
full  half  a  ton,  and  caused  the  hoisting  chain  and 
pulleys  to  groan  compteiningly.  At  last  it  reached 
its  destination  at  the  head  of  the  thick  part  of  the 
mast,  but  about  ten  or  fifteen  feet  beneath  the  ball. 
As  it  neared  the  top,  Jerry  sprang  up  the  chain- 
ladder  to  connect  the  lantern  with  the  rod  and  pinion 
by  means  of  which,  with  clockwork  beneath,  it  was 
made  to  revolve  and  "  flash "  once  every  third  of  a 
minute. 

Simultaneously  with  the  ascent  of  the  Gull 
light  there  arose  out  of  the  sea  three  bright  stars  on 
the  iior'-eastern  horizon,  and  another  star  in  the 
south-west.  The  first  were  the  three  fixed  lights 
of  the  lightship  that  marked  the  North  sandhead ; 
the  latter  was  the  fixed  light  that  guarded  the  South 
sandftead.  The  Goodwin  sentinels  were  now  placed 
for  the  night,  and  the  commerce  of  the  world  might 
come  and  go,  and  pass  those  dreaded  shoals,  in 
absolute  security. 

Ere  long  the  lights  of  the  shipping  in  the  Downs 
were  hung  out,  and  one  by  one  the  lamps  on  shore 
shone  forth — those  which  marked  the  entrance  of 
Eamsgate  harbour  being  conspicuous  for  colour  and 
brilliancy — until  the  water,  which  was  so  calm  as  to 
reflect  them  all,  seemed  alive  with  perpendicular 


22  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

streams  of  liquid  fire ;  land  and  sea  appearing  to  be 
the  subjects  of  one  grand  illumination.  A  much 
less  poetical  soul  than  that  of  the  enthusiastic  lamp- 
lighter might  have  felt  a  touch  of  unwonted  inspira- 
tion on  such  a  night,  and  in  such  a  scene.  The 
effect  on  the  mind  was  irresistibly  tranquillizing. 
While  contemplating  the  multitudes  of  vessels  that 
lay  idle  and  almos$  motionless  on  the  glassy  water, 
the  thought  naturally  arose  that  each  black  hull  en- 
shrouded human  beings  who  were  gradually  sinking 
into  rest — relaxing  after  the  energies  of  the  past  day 
— while  the  sable  cloak  of  night  descended,  slowly 
and  soothingly,  as  if  God  were  spreading  His  hand 
gently  over  all  to  allay  the  fever  of  man's  busy  day- 
life  and  calm  him  into  needful  rest 

The  watch  of  the  floating  light  having  been  set, 
namely,  two  men  to  perambulate  the  deck — a  strict 
watch  being  kept  on  board  night  and  day — the  rest 
of  the  crew  went  below  to  resume  work,  amuse  them- 
selves, or  turn  in  as  they  felt  inclined. 

While  they  were  thus  engaged,  and  darkness  was 
deepening  on  the  scene,  Welton  stood  on  the  quarter- 
deck observing  a  small  sloop  that  floated  slowly 
towards  the  lightship.  Her  sails  were  indeed  set, 
but  no  breath  of  wind  bulged  them  out ;  her  onward 
progress  was  caused  by  the  tide,  which  had  by  that 
time  begun  to  set  with  a  strong  current  to  the  north- 
ward. When  within  about  a  cable's  length,  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  23 

rattle  of  her  chain  told  that  the  anchor  had  been 
let  go.  A  few  minutes  later,  a  boat  was  seen  to 
push  off  from  the  sloop  and  make  for  the  lightship. 
Two  men  rowed  it  and  a  third  steered.  Owing  to 
the  force  of  the  current  they  made  the  vessel  with 
some  difficulty. 

"  Heave  us  a  rope,"  cried  one  of  the  men,  as  they 
brushed  past. 

"  No  visitors  allowed  aboard,"  replied  Mr.  Welton 
sternly ;  catching  up,  nevertheless,  a  coil  of  rope. 

"  Hallo  !  father,  surely  you  Ve  become  very 
unhospitable,"  exclaimed  another  voice  from  the 
boat. 

"  Why,  Jim,  is  that  you,  my  son  ?"  cried  the  mate, 
as  he  flung  the  coil  over  the  side. 

The  boatmen  caught  it,  and  next  moment  Jim 
stood  on  the  deck — a  tall  strapping  young  seaman 
of  twenty  or  thereabouts — a  second  edition  of  his 
father,  but  more  active  and  lithe  in  his  motions. 

"  Why  you  creep  up  to  us,  Jim,  like  a  thief  in 
the  night.  What  brings  you  here,  lad,  at  such  an 
hour  ?"  asked  Mr.  Welton,  senior,  as  he  shook  hands 
with  his  son. 

"  I  've  come  to  have  a  talK  with  'ee,  father.  As 
to  creeping  like  a  thief,  a  man  must  creep  with  the 
tide  when  there's  no  wind,  d'ye  see,  if  he  don't 
come  to  an  anchor.  'Tis  said  that  time  and  tide 
wait  for  no  man ;  that  bein'  so,  I  have  come  to  see 


24  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

you  now  that  I  've  got  the  chance.  That 's  where  it 
is.  But  I  can't  stay  long,  for  old  Jones  will — " 

"  What !"  interrupted  the  mate  with  a  frown,  as 
he  led  his  son  to  the  forepart  of  the  vessel,  in  order 
to  be  out  of  earshot  of  the  watch,  "  have  'ee  really 
gone  an'  shipped  with  that  scoundrel  again,  after  all 
I  've  said  to  'ee  ?" 

"  I  have,  father,"  answered  the  young  man  with  a 
perplexed  expression ;  "  it  is  about  that  same  that 
I  Ve  come  to  talk  to  'ee,  and  to  explain — " 

"You  have  need  to  explain,  Jim,"  said  the  mate 
sternly,  "  for  it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  deliber- 
ately taking  up  with  bad  company ;  and  I  see  in  you 
already  one  o'  the  usual  consequences ,»  you  don't 
care  much  for  your  father's  warnings. 'r 

"  Don't  say  that,  father,"  exclaimed  the  youth  ear- 
nestly, "I  am  sure  that  if  you  knew — stay;  I'll 
send  back  the  boat,  with  orders  to  return  for  me  in 
an  hour  or  so." 

Saying  this  he  hurried  to  the  gangway,  dismissed 
the  boat,  and  returned  to  the  forepart  of  the  vessel, 
where  he  found  his  father  pacing  the  deck  with  an 
anxious  and  somewhat  impatient  air. 

"  Father,"  said  Jim,  as  he  walked  up  and  down 
beside  his  sire,  "  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  it  is 
my  duty  to  remain,  at  least  a  little  longer,  with 
Jones,  because — " 

"Your  duty!"  interrupted  the  mate  in  surprise. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  25 

"  James  !"  he  added,  earnestly,  "  you  told  me  not 
long  ago  that  you  had  taken  to  attending  the  prayer- 
meetings  at  the  sailors'  chapel  when  you  could 
manage  it,  and  I  was  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  be- 
cause I  think  that  the  man  who  feels  his  need  of 
the  help  of  the  Almighty,  and  acts  upon  his  feeling, 
is  safe  to  escape  the  rocks  and  shoals  of  life — always 
supposin'  that  he  sails  by  the  right  chart — the  Bible; 
but  tell  me,  does  the  missionary,  or  the  Bible,  teach 
that  it  is  any  one's  duty  to  take  up  with  a  swearing, 
drinking  scoundrel,  who  is  going  from  bad  to  worse, 
and  has  got  the  name  of  being  worthy  of  a  berth  in 
Newgate  ?" 

"  We  cannot  tell,  father,  whether  all  that 's  said 
of  Morley  Jones  be  true.  We  may  have  our  suspi- 
cions, but  we  can't  prove  t'em;  and  there's  no 
occasion  to  judge  a  man  too  soon/' 

"  That  may  be  so,  Jim,  but  that  is  no  reason  why 
you  should  consort  with  a  man  who  can  do  you  no 
good,  and  will  certainly  do  *ee  much  harm,  when 
you  Ve  no  call  for  to  do  so.  Why  do  'ee  stick  by 
him — that 's  what  I  want  to  know — when  everybody 
says  he  '11  be  the  ruin  of  you  ?  And  why  do  'ee 
always  put  me  off  with  vague  answers  when  I  git 
upon  that  subject  ?  You  did  not  use  to  act  like 
that,  Jim.  You  were  always  fair  an'  aboveboard  in 
your  young  days.  But  what 's  the  use  of  askin'  ? 
It's  plain  that  bad  company  has  done  it,  an'  my 


26  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

only  wonder  is,  how  you  ever  come  to  play  the 
hypocrite  to  that  extent,  as  to  go  to  the  prayer- 
meeting  and  make  believe  you  've  turned  religious." 

There  was  a  little  bitterness  mingled  with  the 
tone  of  remonstrance  in  which  this  was  said,  which 
appeared  to  affect  the  young  man  powerfully,  for 
his  face  crimsoned  as  he  stopped  and  laid  his  hand 
on  his  father's  shoulder. 

"  Whatever  follies  or  sins  I  may  have  committed," 
he  said,  solemnly,  "  I  have  not  acted  a  hypocrite's 
part  in  this  matter.  Did  you  ever  yet  find  me  out, 
father,  tellin'  you  a  lie  ?" 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  I  ever  did,"  answered  the 
mate  with  a  relenting  smile,  "  'xcept  that  time  when 
you  skimmed  all  the  cream  off  the  milk  and  cap- 
sized the  dish  and  said  the  cat  done  it,  although 
you  was  slobbered  with  it  from  your  nose  to  your 
toes — but  you  was  a  very  small  fellow  at  that  time, 
you  was,  and  hadn't  got  much  ballast  aboard'  nor 
begun  to  stow  your  conscience." 

"  Well,  father,"  resumed  Jim  with  a  half-sad 
smile,  "  you  may  depend  upon  it  I  am  not  going  to 
begin  to  deceive  you  now.  My  dear  mother's  last 
words  to  me  on  that  dreary  night  when  she  died, — 
'Always  stick  to  the  truth,  Jim,  whatever  it  may 
cost  you,' — have  never  been  forgotten,  and  I  pray  God 
they  never  may  be.  Believe  me  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  never  join  Morley  in  any  of  b.is  sinful  doings, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  27 

especially  his  drinking  bouts.  You  know  that  I  am 
a  total  abstainer — " 

"  No,  you  're  not,"  cried  Mr.  Welton,  senior ;  "  you 
don't  abstain  totally  from  bad  company,  Jim,  and 
it 's  that  I  complain  of." 

"  I  never  join  him  in  his  drinking  bouts,"  repeated 
Jim,  without  noticing  the  interruption ;  "  and  as  he 
never  confides  to  me  any  of  his  business  transactions, 
I  have  no  reason  to  say  that  I  believe  them  to  be 
unfair.  As  I  said  before,  I  may  suspect,  but  suspi- 
cion is  not  knowledge ;  we  have  no  right  to  condemn 
him  on  mere  suspicion." 

"  True,  my  son ;  but  you  have  a  perfect  right  to 
steer  clear  of  him  on  mere  suspicion." 

"  No  doubt,"  replied  Jim,  with  some  hesitation  in 
his  tone,  "  but  there  are  circumstances — " 

"  There  you  go  again  with  your  '  circumstances,'" 
exclaimed  Welton  senior  with  some  asperity ;  "  why 
don't  you  heave  circumstances  overboard,  rig  the 
pumps  and  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  ?  Surely  it 's 
better  to  do  that  than  let  the  ship  go  to  the  bottom!" 

"  Because,  father,  the  circumstances  don't  all  be- 
long to  myself.  Other  people's  affairs  keep  my 
tongue  tied.  I  do  assure  you  that  if  it  concerned 
only  myself,  I  would  tell  you  everything ;  and,  in- 
deed, when  the  right  time  comes,  I  promise  to  tell 
you  all — but  in  the  meantime  I —  I — " 

"  Jim,"  said  Mr.  Welton,  senior,  stopping  suddenly 


28  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

and  confronting  his  stalwart  son,  "  tell  me  honestly, 
now,  isn't  there  a  pretty  girl  mixed  up  in  this  busi- 
ness ?" 

Jim  stood  speechless,  but  a  mantling  flush,  which 
the  rays  of  the  revolving  light  deepened  on  his  sun- 
burnt countenance,  rendered  speech  unnecessary. 

"  I  knew  it,"  exclaimed  the  mate,  resuming  his 
walk  and  thrusting  his  hands  deeper  into  the  pockets 
of  his  coat,  "it  never  was  otherwise  since  Adam  got 
married  to  Eve.  Whatever  mischief  is  going  you  're 
sure  to  find  a  woman  underneath  the  very  bottom  of 
it,  no  matter  how  deep  you  go !  If  it  wasn't  that 
the  girls  are  at  the  bottom  of  everything  good  as 
well  as  everything  bad,  I  'd  be  glad  to  see  the 
whole  bilin  of  'em  made  fast  to  all  the  sinkers  of  all 
the  buoys  along  the  British  coast  and  sent  to  the 
bottom  of  the  North  Sea." 

"  I  suspect  that  if  that  were  done,"  said  Jim,  with 
a  laugh,  "  you  'd  soon  have  all  the  boys  on  the  British 
coast  making  earnest  inquiries  a,fter  their  sinkers  ! 
But  after  all,  father,  although  the  girls  are  hard 
upon  us  sometimes,  you  must  admit  that  we  couldn't 
get  on  without  'em." 

"  True  for  ye,  boy,"  observed  Jerry  MacGowl,  who, 
coming  up  at  that  moment,  overheard  the  conclusion 
of  the  sentence.  "  It 's  mesilf  as  superscribes  to  that 
same.  Haven 't  the  swate  creeturs  led  me  the  life 
of  a  dog,  turned  me  inside  out  like  an  owld  stockin', 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  29 

trod  me  in  the  dust  as  if  I  was  benaith  contimpt 
an'  riven  me  heart  to  mortial  tatters,  but  I  couldn't 
get  on  widout  'em  nohow  for  all  that.  As  the  pote 
might  say,  av  he  only  knowd  how  to  putt  it  in  pro- 
per verse  : — 

'  Och,  woman  dear,  ye  darlin', 

It 's  I  would  iver  be 
Yer  praises  cater  waul  in' 
In  swaitest  melodee  ! ' " 

"  Mind  your  own  business,  Jerry,"  said  the  mate, 
interrupting  the  flow  of  the  poet's  inspiration. 

"Sure  it's  that  same  I'm  doin',  sir,"  replied  the 
man,  respectfully  touching  his  cap  as  he  advanced 
towards  the  gong  that  surrounded  the  -windlass  and 
uncovered  it.  "  Don't  ye  see  the  fog  a-comin'  down 
like  the  wolf  on  the  fold,  an'  ain't  it  my  dooty  to 
play  a  little  tshune  for  the  benefit  o'  the  public  ?" 

Jerry  hit  the  instrument  as  he  spoke  and  drowned 
his  own  Toice  in  its  sonorous  roar.  He  was  driven 
from  his  post,  however,  by  Dick  Moy,  one  of  the 
watch,  who,  having  observed  the  approaching  fog 
had  gone  forward  to  sound  the  gong,  and  displayed 
his  dislike  to  interference  by  snatching  the  drum- 
stick out  of  Jerry's  hand  and  hitting  him  a  smart 
blow  therewith  on  the  top  of  his  head. 

As  further  conversation  was  under  the  circum- 
stances impossible,  John  Welton  and  his  son  re- 
tired to  the  cabin,  where  the  former  detailed  to  the 
latter  the  visit  of  the  strange  gentleman  with  the 


30  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

keen  grey  eyes,  and  the  conversation  that  had  passed 
between  them  regarding  Morley  Jones.  Still  the 
youth  remained  unmoved,  maintaining  that  suspicion 
was  not  proof,  although  he  admitted  that  things  now 
looked  rather  worse  than  they  had  done  before. 

While  the  father  and  son  were  thus  engaged,  a 
low  moaning  wail  and  an  unusual  heave  of  the 
vessel  caused  them  to  hasten  on  deck,  just  as  one  of 
the  watch  put  his  head  down  the  hatch  and  shouted, 

"  A  squall,  sir,  brewing  up  from  the  noi'-east" 


0V  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  31 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  DISTURBED  NIGHT  ;  A  WRECK  AND  AN  UNEXPECTED  RESCUE. 

THE  aspect  of  the  night  had  completely  changed. 
The  fog  had  cleared  away ;  heavy  clouds  rolled 
athwart  the  sky ;  a  deeper  darkness  descended  on  the 
shipping  at  anchor  in  the  Downs,  and  a  gradually 
increasing  swell  caused  the  Gull  to  roll  a  little  and 
tug  uneasily  at  her  cable.  Nevertheless  the  warn- 
ing light  at  her  mast-head  retained  its  perpendicular 
position  in  consequence  of  a  clever  adaptation  of 
mechanism  on  the  principle  of  the  universal  joint. 

"With  the  rise  of  the  swell  came  the  first  rush  of 
the  squall. 

"  If  they  don't  send  the  boat  at  once,  you  '11  have 
to  spend  the  night  with  us,  Jim,"  said  the  mate, 
looking  anxiously  in  the  direction  of  the  sloop  be- 
longing to  Morley  Jones,  the  dark  outlines  of  which 
could  just  be  seen  looming  of  a  deeper  black  against 
the  black  sky. 

"  It 's  too  late  even  now,"  returned  Jim  in  an 


32  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

anxious  tone  ;  "  the  boat,  like  everything  else  about 
the  sloop,  is  a  rotten  old  thing,  and  would  be  stove 
against  the  side  in  this  swell,  slight  though  it  be  as 
yet.  But  my  chief  trouble  is,  that  the  cables  are  not 
fit  to  hold  her  if  it  comes  on  to  blow  hard." 

For  some  time  the  wind  increased  until  it  blew 
half  a  gale.  At  that  point  it  continued  steady,  and 
as  it  gave  no  indication  of  increasing,  John  Welton 
and  his  son  returned  to  the  cabin,  where  the  latter 
amused  himself  in  glancing  over  some  of  the  books 
in  the  small  library  with  which  the  ship  was  fur- 
nished, while  the  sire  busied  himself  in  posting  up 
the  ship's  log  for  the  day. 

For  a  considerable  time  they  were  silent,  the  one 
busily  engaged  writing,  the  other  engrossed  with  a 
book.  At  last  Mr.  Welton  senior  heaved  a  deep 
sigh,  and  said,  while  he  carefully  dotted  an  i  and 
stroked  a  t, — 

"  It  has  always  been  my  opinion,  Jim,  that  when 
boys  are  bein'  trained  for  the  sea,  they  should  be 
taught  writing  in  a  swing  or  an  omnibus,  in  order 
to  get  'em  used  to  do  it  in  difficult  circumstances. 
There  she  goes  again,"  he  added,  referring  to  a  lurch 
of  the  vessel  which  caused  the  tail  of  a  y  to  travel 
at  least  two  inches  out  of  its  proper  course.  "  Now, 
that  job 's  done.  I  '11  turn  in  for  a  spell,  and  advise 
you  to  do  the  same,  lad." 

"  No,  I  '11  go  on  deck  and  have  a  talk  with  Dick 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  33 

Moy.  If  the  gale  don't  increase  I  '11  perhaps  turn 
in,  but  I  couldn't  sleep  just  now  for  thinkin'  o'  the 
sloop." 

"  Please  yourself,  my,  son,  an'  you  '11  please  me," 
replied  the  mate  with  a  smile  which  ended  in  a  yawn 
as  he  opened  the  door  of  a  small  sleeping  berth,  and 
disappeared  into  its  recesses. 

James  "Welton  stood  for  a  few  minutes  with  his 
back  to  the  small  fireplace,  and  stared  meditatively 
at  the  cabin  lamp. 

The  cabin  of  the  floating  light  was  marvel- 
lously neat  and  immaculately  clean.  There  was  evi- 
dence of  a  well-ordered  household  in  the  tidiness 
with  which  everything  was  put  away  in  its  proper 
place,  even  although  the  fair  hand  of  woman  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  and  clumsy  man  reigned  para- 
mount and  alone  !  The  cabin  itself  was  very  small 
— about  ten  feet  or  so  in  length,  and  perhaps  eight 
in  width.  The  roof  was  so  low  that  Jim  could  not 
stand  quite  erect  because  of  the  beams.  The  grate 
resembled  a  toy,  and  was  of  brass  polished  so  bright 
that  you  might  have  used  it  for  a  looking-glass  ;  the 
fire  in  it  was  proportionately  small,  but  large  enough 
for  the  place  it  had  to  warm.  A  crumb  or  speck  of 
dust  could  scarce  have  been  found  on  the  flocr  with 
a  microscope, — and  no  wonder,  for  whenever  John 
Welton  beheld  the  smallest  symptom  of  such  a 
blemish  he  seized  a  brush  and  shovel  and  swept  it 

c 


34  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

away.  The  books  in  the  little  library  at  the  stem 
were  neatly  arranged,  and  so  were  the  cups,  plates, 
glasses,  salt-cellars,  spoons,  and  saucers,  in  the  little 
recess  that  did  duty  as  a  cupboard.  In  short,  order 
and  cleanliness  reigned  everywhere. 

And  not  only  was  this  the  case  in  the  cabin,  but 
in  every  department  of  the  ship.  The  bread-lockers, 
the  oil-room  next  to  the  cabin,  the  galley  where  the 
men  lived — all  were  scrupulously  clean  and  every- 
thing therein  was  arranged  with  the  method  and  preci- 
sion that  one  is  accustomed  to  expect  only  on  board  a 
man-of-war.  And,  after  all,  what  is  a  floating  light 
but  a  man-of-war  ?  Its  duty  is,  like  that  of  any 
three-decker,  to  guard  the  merchant  service  from  a 
dangerous  foe.  It  is  under  command  of  the  Trinity 
Corporation — which  is  tantamount  to  saying  that  it  is 
well  found  and  handled — and  it  does  battle  continu- 
ally with  the  storm.  What  more  could  be  said  of 
a  man-of-war  ?  The  only  difference  is  that  it  does 
its  work  with  less  fuss  and  no  noise ! 

After  warming  himself  for  a  short  time,  for  the 
night  had  become  bitterly  cold,  Jim  Welton  put  on 
one  of  his  sire's  overcoats  and  went  on  deck,  where 
he  had  a  long  walk  and  talk  with  Dick  Moy,  who 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  "  it  was  a  wery  cold  night," 
and  said  that  he  "  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  wor  to 
come  on  to  blow  'artier  before  morniu'." 

Dick  was  a  huge  man  with  a  large  expanse  of  good- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  35 

natured  visage,  and  a  tendency  to  make  all  his  state- 
ments with  the  solemnity  of  an  oracle.  Big  and 
little  men,  like  large  and  small  dogs,  have  usually  a 
sympathetic  liking  forjeach  other.  Dick  Moy's  chief 
friend  on  board  was  little  Jack  Shales,  who  was  the 
life  of  the  ship,  and  waa  particularly  expert,  as. were 
also  most  of  his  mates,  in  making,  during  hours  of 
leisure,  beautiful  workboxes  and  writing-desks  with 
inlaid  woods  of  varied  colours,  which  were  sold  at  a 
moderate  price  on  shore,  in  order  to  eke  out  the 
monthly  wage  and  add  to  the  comforts  of  wives  and 
little  ones  at  Ramsgate.  It  may  be  added  that  Jack 
Shales  was  unquestionably  the  noisiest  man  on  board. 
He  had  a  good  voice  ;  could  sing,  and  did  sing,  from 
morning  till  night,  and  had  the  power  of  uttering  a 
yell  that  would  have  put  to  shame  the  wildest  warrior 
among  the  Cherokee  savages  ! ' 

Jack  Shales  kept  watch  with  Moy  that  night,  and 
assisted  in  the  conversation  until  a  sudden  snow 
storm  induced  young  Welton  to  bid  them  good-Light 
and  retire  below. 

"  Good-night,"  said  Shales,  as  Jim's  head  was  dis- 
appearing down  the  hatchway,  "  stir  up  the  fire  and 
keep  yourself  warm." 

"  That 's  just  what  I  mean  to  do,"  replied  Jim ; 
"  sorry  I  can 't  communicate  some  of  the  warmth  to 
you." 

"  But  yon  can  think  of  us,"  cried  Jack,  looking 


36  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

down  the  hatchway,  "  you  can  at  least  pity  us  poor 
babes  out  here  in  the  wind  and  snow  !" 

"  Shut  up,  Jack  !"  said  Moy  with  a  solemn  growl, 
"  wot  a  tremendous  jaw  you  've  got  w'en  you  let 
loose !  Why,  wot  are  'ee  starin'  at  now  ?  'Ave  'ee 
seed  a  ghost  ?"  • 

"  No,  Dick,"  said  Shales,  in  a  tone  of  voice  from 
which  every  vestige  of  jocularity  had  disappeared ; 
"  look  steady  in  the  direction  of  the  South  sandhead 
light  and — see !  ain't  that  the  flash  of  a  gun?" 

"  It  looks  like  it.  A  wreck  on  the  sand,  I  fear," 
muttered  Dick  Moy,  putting  up  both  hands  to  guard 
his  eyes  from  the  snow-flakes  that  were  driven 
wildly  about  by  the  wind,  which  had  by  that  time 
increased  to  a  furious  gale. 

For  a  few  minutes  the  two  men  stood  gazing  in- 
tently towards  the  south-west  horizon.  Presently 
a  faint  flash  was  seen,  so  faint  that  they  could  not 
be  certain  it  was  that  of  a  signal-gun.  In  a  few 
minutes,  however,  a  thin  thread  of  red  light  was  seen 
to  curve  upwards  into  the  black  sky. 

"  No  mistake  now,"  cried  Jack,  leaping  towards 
the  cabin  skylight,  which  he  threw  up,  and  bending 
down,  shouted — "  South  sandhead  light  is  firing,  sir, 
and  sending  up  rockets  !" 

The  mate,  who  was  at  the  moment  in  the  land  of 
dreams,  sprang  out  of  them  and  out  of  his  bunk,  and 
stood  on  the  cabin  floor  almost  before  the  sentence 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  37 

was  finished.  His  son,  who  had  just  drawn  the 
blanket  over  his  shoulders,  and  given  vent  to  the 
first  sigh  of  contentmejit  with  which  a  man  usually 
lays  his  head  on  his  pillow  for  the  night,  also 
jumped  up,  drew  on  coat,  nether  garments,  and 
shoes,  as  if  his  life  depended  on  his  speed,  and 
dashed  on  deck.  There  was  unusual  need  for  cloth- 
ing that  night,  for  it  had  become  bitterly  cold,  a 
coat  of  ice  having  formed  even  on  the  salt-water 
spray  which  had  blown  into  the  boats.  They  found 
Dick  Moy  and  Jack  Shales  already  actively  en- 
gaged— the  one  loading  the  lee  gun,  the  other 
adjusting  a  rocket  to  its  stick.  A-  few  hurried 
questions  from  the  mate  elicited  all  that  it  was 
needful  to  know.  The  flash  of  the  gun  from  the 
South  sandhead  lightship,  about  six  miles  off,  had 
been  distinctly  seen  a  third  time,  and  a  third  rocket 
went  up  just  as  Welton  and  his  son  gained  the  deck, 
indicating  that  a  vessel  had  struck  upon  the  fatal 
Goodwin  Sands.  The  report  of  the  gun  could  not 
be  heard,  owing  to  the  gale  carrying  the  sound  to 
leeward,  but  the  bright  line  of  the  rocket  was  dis- 
tinctly visible.  At  the  same  .moment  the  flaring 
light  of  a  burning  tar- barrel  was  observed.  It  was 
the  signal  of  the  vessel  in  distress  just  on  the 
southern  tail  of  the  sands. 

By  this  time  the  gun  was  charged  and  the  rocket 
in  position. 


38  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Look  alive,  Jack,  fetch  the  poker !"  cried  the 
mate  as  he  primed  the  gun. 

Jack  Shales  dived  down  the  companion-hatch, 
and  in  another  moment  returned  with  a  red-hot 
poker,  which  the  mate  had  thrust  into  the  cabin  fire 
at  the  first  alarm.  He  applied  it  in  quick  succession 
to  the  gun  and  rocket.  A  blinding  flash  and  deaf- 
ening crash  were  followed  by  the  whiz  of  the  rocket 
as  it  sprang  with  a  magnificent  curve  far  away  into 
the  surrounding  darkness. 

This  was  their  answer  to  the  South  sandhead 
light,  which,  having  fired  three  guns  and  sent  up 
three  rockets  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  Gull, 
then  ceased  firing.  It  was  also  their  first  note  of 
warning  to  the  look-out  on  the  pier  of  Ramsgate 
harbour.  Of  the  three  light-ships  that  guarded  the 
sands,  the  Gull  lay  nearest  to  Ramsgate;  hence, 
whichever  of  the  other  two  happened  to  send  up 
signals,  the  Gull  had  to  reply  and  thenceforward  to 
continue  repeating  them  until  the  attention  of  the 
Ramsgate  look-out  should  be  gained,  and  a  reply 
given. 

"  That 's  a  beauty,"  cried  the  mate,  referring  to 
the  rocket ;  "  fetch  another,  Jack  ;  sponge  her  well 
out,  Dick  Moy,  we  '11  give  'em  another  shot  in  a  few 
minutes." 

Loud  and  clear  were  both  the  signals,  but  four 
and  a  half  miles  of  distance  and  a  fresh  gale  neutral- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  39 

ized  their  influence.  The  look-out  on  the  pier  did 
not  observe  them.  In  less  than  five  minutes  the 
gun  and  rocket  were  fired  again.  Still  no  answering 
signal  came  from  Kamggate. 

"  Load  the  weather  gun  this  time,"  cried  the  mate, 
"  they  '11  have  a  better  chance  of  seeing  the  flash  of 
that." 

Jack  obe}Ted,  and  Jim  "Welton,  having  nothing  to 
do  but  look  on,  sought  shelter  under  the  lee  of  the 
weather  bulwarks,  for  the  wind,  according  to  Dick 
Moy,  "  was  blowin'  needles  and  penknives." 

The  third  gun  thundered  forth  and  shook  the 
floating  light  from  stem  to  stern,  but  the*  rocket 
struck  the  rigging  and  made  a  low  wavering  flight. 
Another  was  therefore  sent  up,  but  it  had  scarcely 
cut  its  bright  line  across  the  sky  when  the  answering 
signal  was  observed — a  rocket  from  Eamsgate  pier ! 

"  That 's  all  right  now ;  our  duty 's  done,"  said 
the  mate,  as  he  went  below,  and,  divesting  himself 
of  his  outer  garments,  quietly  turned  in,  while  the 
watch,  having  sponged  out  and  re-covered  the  guns, 
resumed  their  active  perambulation  of  the  deck. 

James  Welton,  however,  could  not  calm  down  his 
feelings  so  easily.  This  was  the  first  night  he  had 
ever  spent  in  a  light-ship  ;  the  scene  was  therefore 
quite  new  to  him,  and  he  could  not  help  feeling 
somewhat  disappointed  at  the  sudden  termination 
of  the  noise  and  excitement.  He  was  told  that  the 


40  THE  FLOATIXG  LIGHT 

Ramsgate  lifeboat  could  not  be  out  in  less  than  an 
hour,  and  it  seemed  to  his  excited  spirit  a  terrible 
thing  that  human  lives  should  be  kept  so  long  in 
jeopardy.  Of  course  he  began  to  think,  "  Is  it  not 
possible  to  prevent  this  delay  ?"  but  his  better  sense 
whispered  to  him  that  excited  spirits  are  not  the 
best  judges  in  such  matters,  although  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  they  have  an  irresistible  tendency  to 
judge.  There  was  nothing  for  it,  however,  but  to 
exercise  philosophic  patience,  so  he  went  below  and 
turned  in,  as  sailors  have  it,  "  all  standing,"  to  be 
ready  when  the  lifeboat  should  make  its  appearance. 

The  young  sailor's  sleep  was  prompt  and  pro- 
found. It  seemed  to  him  but  a  few  minutes  after 
he  had  laid  his  head  on  the  pillow  when  Jack  Shale's 
voice  again  resounded  in  the  cabin — 

"Lifeboat  close  alongside,  sir.  Didn't  see  her 
till  this  moment.  She  carries  no  lights." 

The  Weltons,  father  and  son,  sprang  out  of  their 
bunks  a  second  time,  and,  minus  coat,  hat,  and 
shoes,  scrambled  on  deck  just  in  time  to  see  the 
Broadstairs  lifeboat  rush  past  before  the  gale.  She 
was  close  under  the  stern,  and  rendered  spectrally 
visible  by  the  light  of  the  lantern. 

"  What  are  you  firing  for  ?"  shouted  the  coxswain 
of  the  boat. 

"  Ship  on  the  sands,  bearing  south,"  roared  Jack 
Shales  at  the  full  pitch  of  his  stentorian  voice. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  41 

There  was  no  time  for  more,  for  the  boat  did  not 
paase  in  her  meteor-like  flight.  The  question  was 
asked  and  answered  as  she  passed  with  a  magnifi- 
cent rush  into  darknes's.  The  reply  had  been  heard, 
and  the  lifeboat  shot,  straight  as  an  arrow,  to  the 
rescue. 

Reader,  we  often  hear  and  read  of  such  scenes, 
but  we  can  tell  you  from  experience  that  vision  is 
necessary  to  enable  one  to  realize  the  full  import  of 
all  that  goes  on.  There  was  a  strange  thrill  at  the 
heart  of  young  Welton  when  he  saw  the  fa/mi  liar 
blue-and-white  boat  leaping  over  the  foaming  bil- 
lows. Often  had  he  seen  it  in  model  and  in  qui- 
escence in  its  boat-house,  ponderous  and  almost 
ungainly ;  but  now  he  saw  it  for  the  first  time  in 
action,  as  if  endued  with  life.  So,  we  fancy,  war- 
riors might  speak  of  our  heavy  cavalry  as  we,  see 
them  in  barracks  and  as  they  saw  them  at  Alma. 

Again  all  was  silent  and  unexciting  on  board  the 
Gull ;  but,  not  many  minutes  later,  the  watch  once 
more  shouted  down  the  skylight, — 

"Tug 'sin  sight,  sir." 

It  was  afterwards  ascertained  that  a  mistake  had 
been  made  in  reference  to  the  vessel  that  had  sig- 
nalled. Some  one  on  shore  had  reported  that  the 
guns  and  rockets  had  been  seen  flashing  from  the 
North  sandhead  vessel,  whereas  the  report  should 
have  been,  "  from  the  vessel  at  the  South  sand- 


42  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

head."  The  single  word  was  all-important.  It  had 
the  effect  of  sending  the  steam-tug  Aid  (which 
always  attends  upon  the  Eamsgate  lifeboat)  in  the 
wrong  direction,  involving  much  loss  of  time.  But 
we  mention  this  merely  as  a  fact,  not  as  a  reproof. 
Accidents  will  happen,  even  in  the  best  regulated 
families.  The  Eamsgate  lifeboat  service  is  most 
admirably  regulated ;  and  for  once  that  an  error  of 
this  kind  can  be  pointed  out,  we  can  point  to  dozens 
— ay,  hundreds — of  cases  in  which  the  steamer  and 
lifeboat  have  gone,  straight  as  the  crow  flies,  to  the 
rescue,  and  have  done  good  service  on  occasions 
when  all  other  lifeboats  would  certainly  have  failed ; 
so  great  is  the  value  of  steam  in  such  matters. 

On  this  occasion,  however,  the  tug  appeared  some- 
what late  on  the  scene,  and  hailed  the  Gull.  When 
the  true  state  of  the  case  was  ascertained,  her  course 
was  directed  aright,  and  full  steam  let  on.  The 
Eamsgate  boat  was  in  tow  far  astern.  As  she  passed, 
the  brief  questions  and  answers  were  repeated  for 
the  benefit  of  the  coxswain,  and  Jim  Welton  ob- 
served that  every  man  in  the  boat  appeared  to  be 
crouching  down  on  the  thwarts  except  the  cox- 
swain, who  stood  at  the  steering  tackles.  No  wonder. 
It  is  not  an  easy  matter  to  sit  up  in  a  gale  of  wind, 
with  freezing  spray,  and  sometimes  green  seas, 
sweeping  over  one  !  The  men  were  doubtless  wide- 
awake and  listening,  but,  as  far  as  vision  went,  that 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  43 

boat  was  manned  by  ten  oilskin  coats  and  sou'- 
westers ! 

A  few  seconds  carried  them  out  of  sight,  and  so 
great  was  the  power  of  steam  that,  despite  the  loss 
of  time,  they  reached  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
wreck  as  soon  as  the  Broadstairs'  boat,  and  found 
that  the  crew  of  the  stranded  vessel  had  already  been 
saved,  and  taken  ashore  by  the  Deal  lifeboat. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  observe  here,  that  although 
in  this  case  much  energy  was  expended  unneces- 
sarily, it  does  not  follow  that  it  is  frequently  so 
expended.  Often,  far  too  often,  all  the  force  of  life- 
boat service  on  that  coast  is  insufficient  to  meet 
the  demands  on  it.  The  crews  of  the  various  boats 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Goodwin  Sands  are  frequently 
called  out  more  than  once  in  a  night,  and  they  are 
sometimes  out  all  night,  visiting  various  wrecks  in 
succession.  In  all  this  work  the  value  of  the  steam- 
tug  is  very  conspicuous,  for  it  can  tow  its  boat  again 
and  again  to  windward  of  a  wreck,  and  renew  the 
effort  to  save  life  in  cases  where,  devoid  of  such  aid, 
lifeboats  would  be  compelled  to  give  in  after  the 
failure  of  their  first  attempt,  in  consequence  of  their 
being  driven  helplessly  to  leeward 

But  we  have  forestalled  our  narrative.  The  drama, 
as  far  as  the  Gull- Light  was  concerned,  ended  that 
night  with  the  disappearance  of  the  tug  and  lifeboat 
It  was  not  until  several  days  afterwards  that  her 


44  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

crew  learned  the  particulars  of  the  wreck  in  connec- 
tion with  which  they  had  acted  so  brief  but  so  im- 
portant a  part. 

Meanwhile,  Dick  Moy,  who  always  walked  the 
deck  with  a  rolling  swagger,  with  his  huge  hands 
thrust  deep  into  his  breeches'  pockets  when  there 
was  nothing  for  them  to  do,  said  to  Jim  Welton 
"he'd  advise  'im  to  go  below  an'  clap  the  dead- 
lights on  'is  peepers." 

Jim,  approving  the  advice,  was  about  to  descend 
to  the  cabin,  when  he  was  arrested  by  a  sharp  cry 
that  appeared  to  rise  out  of  the  waves. 

"  Wot  iver  is  that  ? "  exclaimed  Dick,  as  they  all 
rushed  to  the  port  bow  of  the  vessel  and  looked  over 
the  side. 

"  Something  in  the  water,"  cried  Jack  Shales, 
hastily  catching  up  a  coil  of  rope  and  throwing  it 
overboard  with  that  promptitude  which  is  peculiar 
to  seamen, 

"Why,  he  can't  kitch  hold  on  it;  it's  only  a 
dog,"  observed  Dick  Moy. 

All  uncertainty  on  this  point  was  cleared  away, 
by  a  loud  wail  to  which  the  poor  animal  gave  vent, 
as  it  scraped  along  the  ship's  hull,  vainly  endeavour- 
ing to  prevent  itself  from  being  carried  past  by  the 
tide. 

By  this  time  they  were  joined  by  the  mate  and 
the  rest  of  the  crew,  who  had  heard  the  unwonted 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  45 

sounds  and  hurried  on  deck.  Each  man  was  eagerly 
suggesting  a  method  of  rescue,  or  attempting  to 
cany  one  into  effect,  by  means  of  a  noose  or  other- 
,  wise,  when  Mr.  Welton,  senior,  observed  that  Mr. 
"VYelton,  junior,  was  hastily  tying  a  rope  round  his 
waist. 

"  Hallo  !  Jim,"  he  cried,  "  surely  you  don't  mean 
to  risk  your  life  for  a  dog  ?" 

"  There 's  no  risk  about  it,  father.  Why  should  I 
leave  a  poor  dog  to  drown  when  it  will  only  cost  a 
ducking  at  the  worst  ?  You  know  I  can  swim  like  a 
cork,  and  I  ain't  easily  cooled  down." 

"You  shan't  do  it  if  I  can  prevent,"  cried  the 
mate,  rushing  at  his  reckless  son. 

But  Jim  was  too  nimble  for  him.  He  ran  to  the 
stern  of  the  vessel,  leaped  on  the  bulwarks,  flung  the 
end  of  the  coil  of  rope  among  the  men,  and  shouting 
"  Hold  on  taut,  boys  !"  sprang  into  the  sea. 

The  men  did  "hold  on"  most  powerfully ;  they  did 
more,  they  hauled  upon  the  rope,  hand  over  hand,  to 
a  "Yo-heave-ho!"  from  Jerry  MacGowl,  which  put 
to  shame  the  roaring  gale,  and  finally  hauled  Jim 
Welton  on  board  with  a  magnificent  Newfoundland 
dog  in  his  arms,  an  event  which  was  greeted  with 
three  enthusiastic  cheers ! 


46  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   IV. 

A  NEW  CHARACTER  INTRODUCED. 

THE  gale  was  a  short-lived  one.  On  the  follow- 
ing morning  the  wind  had  decreased  to  a  moderate 
breeze,  and  before  night  the  sea  had  gone  down 
sufficiently  to  allow  the  boat  of  Mr.  Jones's  sloop  to 
come  alongside  of  the  floating  light. 

Before  Jim  Welton  bade  his  friends  good-bye,  he 
managed  to  have  an  earnest  and  private  talk  with 
each  of  them.  Although  he  had  never  been  con- 
nected with  the  Gull,  he  had  frequently  met  with 
the  men  of  that  vessel,  and,  being  one  of  those  large- 
hearted  sympathetic  men  who  somehow  worm  them- 
selves into  the  affection  and  confidence  of  most  of 
their  friends  and  comrades,  he  had  something  par- 
ticular to  say  to  each,  either  in  reference  to  wives 
and  families  on  shore,  or  to  other  members  of  that 
distracting  section  of  the  human  family  which, 
according  to  Mr.  Welton  senior,  lay  at  the  founda- 
tion of  all  mischief. 

But  young  Welton  did  not  confine  himself  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  47 

temporal  matters.  It  has  already  been  hinted  that 
he  had  for  some  time  "been  in  the  habit  of  attending 
prayer-meetings,  but  the  truth  was  that  he  had 
recently  been  led  by  a -sailor's  missionary  to  read 
the  Bible,  and  the  precious  Word  of  God  had  been 
so  blessed  to  his  soul,  that  he  had  seen  his  own  lost 
condition  by  nature,  and  had  also  seen,  and  joyfully 
accepted,  Jesus  Christ  as  his  all-sufficient  Saviour. 
He  had  come  to  "  know  the  truth,"  and  "  the  truth 
had  set  him  free;"  free,  not  only  from  spiritual 
death  and  the  power  of  sin,  but  free  from  that 
unmanly  shame  which,  alas !  too  often  prevents 
Christians  from  taking  a  bold  stand  on  the  Lord's 
side. 

The  young  sailor  had,  no  doubt,  had  severe  inward 
conflicts,  which  were  known  only  to  God  and  him- 
self, but  he  had  been  delivered  and  strengthened,  for 
he  was  not  ashamed  of  Christ  in  the  presence  of  his 
old  comrades,  and  he  sought  by  all  the  means  in  his 
power  to  draw  them  to  the  same  blessed  Saviour. 

"Well,  good-bye,  Jim,"  said  Mr.  Welton,  senior, 
as  his  son  moved  towards  the  gangway,  when  the 
boat  came  alongside,  "  all  I  've  got  to  say  to  'ee,  lad, 
is,  that  you  're  on  dangerous  ground,  and  you  have 
no  right  to  shove  yourself  in  the  way  of  temptation." 

"  But  I  don 't  shove  myself,  father ;  I  think  I  am 
led  in  that  way.  I  may  be  wrong,  perhaps,  but 
such  is  my  belief." 


48  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"You'll  not  forget  that  message  to  my  mother," 
whispered  a  sickly-looking  seaman,  whose  strong- 
boned  frame  appeared  to  be  somewhat  attenuated  by 
disease. 

"  I  '11  not  forget,  Eainer.  It 's  likely  that  we  shall 
be  in  Yarmouth  in  a  couple  of  days,  and  you  may 
depend  upon  my  looking  up  the  old  woman  as  soon 
after  I  get  ashore  as  possible." 

"Hallo  !  hi !"  shouted  a  voice  from  below,  "wot's 
all  the  hurry?"  cried  Dick  Moy,  stumbling  hastily 
up  on  deck  while  in  the  act  of  closing  a  letter  which 
bore  evidence  of  having  been  completed  under  diffi- 
culties, for  its  form  was  irregular,  and  its  back  was 
blotted.  "Here  you  are,  putt  that  in  the  post  at 
Yarmouth,  will  'ee,  like  a  good  fellow  ?" 

"  Why,  you  've  forgotten  the  address,"  exclaimed 
Jim  Welton  in  affected  surprise. 

"  No,  I  'aven't.    There  it  is  hall  right  on  the  back." 

"What,  that  blot?" 

"  Ay,  that 's  wot  stands  for  Mrs.  Moy,"  said  Dick, 
with  a  good-natured  smile. 

"Sure  now,"  observed  Jerry  MacGowl,  looking 
earnestly  at  the  letter,  "  it  do  seem  to  me,  for  all  the 
world,  as  if  a  cat  had  drawed  his  tail  across  it  after 
stumblin'  over  a  ink-bottle." 

"Don't  Mrs.  Moy  live  in  Eamsgate?"  inquired 
Jim  Welton. 

"  Of  course  she  do,"  replied  Dick 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  49 

"But  I'm  not  going  there;  I'm  goin'  to  Yar- 
mouth," said  Jim. 

"Wot  then?"  retorted  Dick,  "d"ee  suppose  the 
clerk  o'  the  post-office  at  Yarmouth  ain't  as  well  able 
to  read  as  the  one  at  Bamsgate,even  though  the  writin' 
do  be  done  with  a  cat's  tail  ?  Go  along  with  Jee." 

Thus  dismissed,  Jim  descended  the  side  and  was 
quickly  on  board  the  sloop  Nora  to  which  he  be- 
longed. 

On  the  deck  of  the  little  craft  he  was  received 
gruffly  by  a  man  of  powerful  frame  and  stern 
aspect,  but  whose  massive  head,  covered  with  shaggy 
grey  curling  hair,  seemed  to  indicate  superior  powers 
of  intellect.  This  was  Morley  Jones,  the  master  and 
owner  of  the  sloop. 

"  A  pretty  mess  you  've  made  of  it ;  I  might  have 
been  in  Yarmouth  by  this  time,"  he  said,  testily. 

"  More  likely  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,"  answered 
Jim,  quietly,  as  he  went  aft  and  looked  at  the  com- 
pass— more  from  habit  than  from  any  desire  to  re- 
ceive information  from  that  instrument 

"Well,  if  I  had  been  at  the  bottom  o'  the  sea, 
what  then  ?  Who 's  to  say  that  I  mayn't  risk  my  life 
if  I  see  fit  ?  It 's  not  worth  much,"  he  said,  gloomily. 

"  You  seem  to  forget  that  in  risking  your  own  life 
you  risk  the  lives  of  those  who  sail  along  with  you," 
replied  Jim,  with  a  bold  yet  good-humoured  look  at 
the  skipper. 


50  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  And  what  if  I  do  risk  their  lives  ? — they  ain't 
worth  much,  either,  I'm  sure?" 

"  Not  to  you,  Morley,  but  worth  a  good  deal  to 
themselves,  not  to  mention  their  wives  and  families 
and  friends.  You  know  well  enough  that,  if  I  had 
wished  ever  so  much  to  return  aboard  last  night  your 
boat  could  not  have  got  alongside  the  Gull  for  the 
sea.  Moreover,  you  also  know  that  if  you  had 
attempted  to  put  to  sea  in  such  weather,  this  leaky 
tub,  with  rotten  sails  and  running  gear,  would  have 
been  a  wreck  on  the  Goodwin  sands  before  now,  and 
you  and  I,  with  the  two  men  and  the  boy,  would 
have  been  food  for  the  gulls  and  fishes." 

"  Not  at  all,"  retorted  Jones,  "  there 's  not  much 
fear  of  our  lives  here.  The  lifeboat  crews  are  too 
active  for  that ;  and  as  to  the  sloop,  why,  she 's  in- 
sured you  know  for  her  full  value — for  more  than 
her  value,  indeed." 

Jones  said  this  with  a  chuckle  and  a  sly  expres- 
sion in  his  face,  as  he  glanced  meaningly  at  his  com- 
panion. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  your  insurance  or  your 
cargo,  and,  what 's  more,  I  don't  want  to  know,"  said 
Jim,  almost  angrily.  "  You  've  been  at  Square-Tom 
again,"  he  added,  suddenly  laying  his  hand  upon 
the  shoulder  of  his  companion  and  looking  earnestly 
into  his  eyes. 

It  was  now  Jones's  turn  to  be  angry,  yet  it  was 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  51 

evident  that  he  made  an  effort  to  restrain  his  feel- 
ings, as  he  replied,  "  Well,  what  if  I  have  ?  It 's  one 
thing  for  you  to  advise  me  to  become  a  teetotaller, 
and  it 's  quite  another* thing  for  me  to  agree  to  do  it. 
I  tell  you  again,  as  I  've  often  told  you  before,  Jim 
Welton,  that  I  don't  mean  to  do  it,  and  I'm  not 
going  to  submit  to  be  warned  and  reasoned  with 
by  you,  as  if  you  was  my  grandfather.  I  know  that 
drink  is  the  curse  of  my  life,  and  I  know  that  it  will 
kill  me,  and  that  I  am  a  fool  for  giving  way  to  it, 
but  it  is  the  only  thing  that  makes  me  able  to 
endure  this  life ;  and  as  for  the  next,  I  don't  care 
for  it,  and  I  don't  believe  in  it" 

"  But  your  not  believing  in  it  does  not  make  it 
less  certain,"  replied  Jim,  quietly,  but  without  any 
approach  to  solemnity  in  his  tone  or  look,  for  he 
knew  that  his  companion  was  not  in  a  mood  just 
then  to  stand  such  treatment.  "  You  remember  the 
story  of  the  ostrich  that  was  run  down  ?  Finding 
that  it  could  not  escape,  it  stuck  its  head  in  the 
sand  and  thought  that  nobody  saw  it.  You  may 
shut  your  eyes,  Morley,  but  facts  remain  facts  for 
all  that." 

"  Shutting  my  eyes  is  just  what  I  am  not  doing," 
returned  Jones,  flinging  round  and  striding  to  the 
other  side  of  the  deck  ;  then,  turning  quickly,  he 
strode  back,  and  added,  with  an  oath,  "  have  I  not 
told  you  that  I  see  myself,  my  position,  and  my  pro- 


52  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT  ' 

spects,  as  clearly  as  you  do,  and  that  I  intend  to  face 
them  all,  and  take  the  consequences  ? " 

Jim  Welton  flushed  slightly,  and  his  eyes  dilated, 
as  he  replied, — 

"  Have  you  not  the  sense  to  see,  Morley  Jones, 
that  my  remonstrances  with  you  are  at  least  disin- 
terested ?  What  would  you  think  if  I  were  to  say  to 
you, '  Go,  drink  your  fill  till  death  finds  you  at  last 
wallowing  on  the  ground  like  a  beast,  or  worse  than 
a  beast ;  I  leave  you  to  your  fate'  ?" 

"  I  would  think  that  Jim  "Welton  had  changed 
his  nature,"  replied  Jones,  whose  anger  disappeared 
as  quickly  as  it  came.  "  I  have  no  objection  to 
your  storming  at  me,  Jim.  You  may  swear  at  me  as 
much  as  you  please,  but,  for  any  sake,  spare  me  your 
reasonings  and  entreaties,  because  they  only  rouse 
the  evil  spirit  within  me,  without  doing  an  atom 
of  good ;  and  don't  talk  of  leaving  me.  Besides,  let 
me  tell  you,  you  are  not  so  disinterested  in  this 
matter  as  you  think.  There  is  some  one  in  Yar- 
mouth who  has  something  to  do  with  your  interest 
in  me." 

The  young  man  flushed  again  at  the  close  of  this 
speech,  but  not  from  a  feeling  of  anger.  He  dropt 
his  eyes  before  the  earnest  though  unsteady  gaze  of 
his  half-tipsy  companion,  who  burst  into  a  loud 
laugh  as  Jim  attempted  some  stammering  reply. 

"  Corne,"  he  added,  again  assuming  the  stern  aspect 


f        OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  53 

which  was  natural  to  him,  but  giving  Jim  a  friendly 
slap  on  the  shoulder,  "  don't  let  us  fall  out,  Jim ; 
you  and  I  don't  wanj;  to  part  just  now.  Moreover, 
if  we  have  a  mind  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  tide  to- 
night, the  sooner  we  up  anchor  the  better,  so  we 
won't  waste  any  more  time  talking." 

"Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  Mr.  Jones  went  for- 
ward and  called  the  crew.  The  anchor  was  weighed, 
the  sails  were  set,  and  the  sloop  Nora — bending  over 
before  the  breeze,  as  if  doing  homage  in  passing  her 
friend  the  Gull-Light — put  to  sea,  and  directed  her 
course  for  the  ancient  town  and  port  of  Yarmouth. 


THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTEE  V. 

MOKK  NEW  CHARACTERS  INTRODUCED. 

IF  it  be  true  that  time  and  tide  wait  for  no  man, 
it  is  equally  true,  we  rejoice  to  know,  that  authors 
and  readers  have  a  corresponding  immunity  from 
shackles,  and  are  in  nowise  bound  to  wait  for  time 
or  tide. 

We  therefore  propose  to  leave  the  Gull-stream 
light,  and  the  Goodwin  sands,  and  the  sloop  Nora, 
far  behind  us,  and,  skipping  a  little  in  advance  of 
Time  itself,  proceed  at  once  to  Yarmouth. 

Here,  in  a  snug  parlour,  in  an  easy  chair,  before 
a  cheerful  fire,  with  a  newspaper  in  his  hand,  sat  a 
bluff  little  elderly  gentleman,  with  a  bald  head  and 
a  fat  little  countenance,  in  which  benignity  appeared 
to  hold  perpetual  though  amicable  rivalry  with  fun. 

That  the  fat  little  elderly  gentleman  was  eccentric 
could  scarcely  be  doubted,  because  he  not  only  looked 
over  his  spectacles  instead  of  through  them,  but  also, 
apparently,  read  his  newspaper  upside  down.  A 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAKDS.  55 

closer  inspection,  however,  would  have  shown  that  he 
was  not  reading  the  paper  at  all,  but  looking  over  the 
top  of  it  at  an  object  which  accounted  for  much  of 
the  benignity,  and  some  of  the  fun  of  his  expression. 

At  the  opposite  side  of  the  table  sat  a  very  beau-  ' 
tiful  girl,  stooping  over  a  book,  and  so  earnestly 
intent  thereon  as  to  be  evidently  quite  oblivious  of 
all  else  around  her.  She  was  at  that  interesting  age 
when  romance  and  reality  are  supposed  to  be  pretty 
equally  balanced  in  a  well-regulated  female  mind 
— about  seventeen.  Although  not  classically  beau- 
tiful— her  nose  being  slightly  turned  upward — she 
was,  nevertheless,  uncommonly  pretty,  and,  as  one  of 
her  hopeless  admirers  expressed  it,  "desperately  love- 
able."  Jet  black  ringlets — then  in  vogue — clustered 
round  an  exceedingly  fair  face,  on  which  there  dwelt 
the  hue  of  robust  health.  Poor  Bob  Queeker,  the 
hopeless  admirer  above  referred  to,  would  have 
preferred  that  she  had  been  somewhat  paler  and 
thinner,  if  that  had  been  possible ;  but  this  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at,  because  Queeker  was  about  sixteen 
years  of  age  at  that  time,  and  wrote  sonnets  to  the 
moon  and  other  celestial  bodies,  and  also  indulged 
in  "  lines  "  to  various  terrestrial  bodies,  such  as  the 
lily  or  the  snowdrop,  or  something  equally  drooping 
or  pale.  Queeker  never  by  any  chance  addressed 
the  sun,  or  the  red-rose,  or  anything  else  suggestive 
of  health  and  vigour.  Yet  his  melancholy  soul  could 


56  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

not  resist  Katie, — which  was  this  angel's  name, — 
because,  although  she  was  energetic,  and  vigorous, 
and  matter-of-fact,  not  to  say  slightly  mischievous, 
she  was  intensely  sympathetic  and  tender  in  her 
feelings,  and  romantic  too.  But  her  romance  puzzled 
him.  There  was  something  too  intense  about  it  for 
his  taste.  If  he  had  only  once  come  upon  her  un- 
awares, and  caught  her  sitting  with  her  hands 
clasped,  gazing  in  speechless  adoration  at  the  moon, 
or  even  at  a  street-lamp,  in  the  event  of  its  being 
thick  weather  at  the  time,  his  love  for  her  would 
have  been  without  alloy. 

As  it  was,  Queeker  thought  her  "desperately  love- 
able,"  and  in  his  perplexity  continued  to  write  son- 
nets without  number  to  the  moon,  in  which  efforts, 
however,  he  was  singularly  unsuccessful,  owing  to 
the  fact  that,  after  he  had  gazed  at  it  for  a  consider- 
able length  of  time,  the  orb  of  night  invariably 
adopted  black  ringlets  and  a  bright  sunny  com- 
plexion. 

George  Durant — which  was  the  name  of  the  bald 
fat  little  elderly  gentleman — was  Katie's  father. 
Looking  at  them,  no  one  would  have  thought  so, 
for  Katie  was  tall  and  graceful  in  form;  and  her 
countenance,  except  when  lighted  up  with  varying 
emotion,  was  grave  and  serene. 

As  Mr.  Durant  looked  at  it  just  then,  the  gravity 
had  deepened  into  severity  ;  the  pretty  eyebrows 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  57 

frowned  darkly  at  the  book  over  which  they  bent, 
and  the  rosy  lips  represented  a  compound  of  pursimg 
and  pouting  as  they  moved  and  muttered  something 
inaudibly. 

"  "What  is  it  that  puzzles  you,  Katie  ? "  asked  her 
father,  laying  down  the  paper. 

"  'Sh ! "  whispered  Katie,  without  lifting  her  head ; 
"  seventeen,  twenty-two,  twenty-nine,  thirty-six, — 
one  pound  sixteen; — no,  I  can't  get  it  to  balance. 
Did  you  ever  know  such  a  provoking  thing  ? " 

She  flung  down  her  pencil,  and  looked  full  in 
her  father's  face,  where  fun  had,  for  the  time,  so 
thoroughly  conquered  and  overthrown  benignity,  that 
the  frown  vanished  from  her  brow,  and  the  rosy  lips 
expanded  to  join  her  sire  in  a  hearty  fit  of  laughter. 

"  If  you  could  only  see  your  own  face,  Katie,  when 
you  are  puzzling  over  these  accounts,  you  would 
devote  yourself  ever  after  to  drawing  it,  instead  of 
those  chalk-heads  of  which  you  are  so  fond." 

"  No,  I  wouldn't,  papa,"  said  Katie,  whose  gravity 
quickly  returned.  "  It 's  all  very  well  for  you  to 
joke  about  it,  and  laugh  at  me,  but  I  can  tell  you 
that  this  account  won't  balance ;  there  is  a  two-and- 
sixpence  wrong  somewhere,  and  you  know  it  has  to 
be  all  copied  out  and  sent  off  by  the  evening  post 
to-morrow.  I  really  can't  understand  why  we  are 
called  upon  to  make  so  many  copies  of  all  the  ac- 
counts and  papers  for  that  ridiculous  Board  of  Trade: 


58  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

I  'm  sure  they  have  plenty  of  idle  clerks  of  their 
own,  without  requiring  us  to  slave  as  we  do — for 
such  a  wretched  salary,  too  ! " 

Katie  shook  her  curls  indignantly,  as  she  thought 
of  the  unjust  demands  and  inadequate  remuneration 
of  Government,  and  resumed  her  work,  the  frowning 
brows  and  pursed  coral  lips  giving  evidence  of  her 
immediate  and  total  absorption  in  the  accounts. 

Old  Mr.  Durant,  still  holding  the  newspaper  up- 
side down,  and  looking  over  the  top  of  it  and  of  his 
spectacles  at  the  fair  accountant,  thought  in  his  heart 
that  if  the  assembled  Board,  of  which  his  daughter 
spoke  in  such  contemptuous  terms,  could  only  be- 
hold her  labouring  at  their  books,  in  order  to  relieve 
her  father  of  part  of  the  toil,  they  would  inconti- 
nently give  orders  that  he  should  be  thenceforth 
allowed  a  salary  for  a  competent  clerk,  and  that  all 
the  accounts  sent  up  from  Yarmouth  should  be 
bound  in  cloth  of  gold ! 

"  Here  it  is,  papa,  I  've  got  it !"  exclaimed  Katie, 
looking  up  with  enthusiasm  similar  to  that  which 
might  be  expected  in  a  youthful  sportsman  on  the 
occasion  of  hooking  his  first  salmon.  "  It  was  the 
two-and-sixpence  which  you  told  me  to  give  to — " 

At  that  moment  the  outer  door  bell  rang. 

"There's  cousin  Fanny,  oh,  I'm  so  glad!"  ex- 
claimed Katie,  shutting  up  her  books  and  clearing 
away  a  multitude  of  papers  with  which  the  table 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  59 

was  lumbered ;  "  she  has  promised  to  stay  a  week, 
and  has  come  in  time  to  go  with  me  to  the  singing 
class  this  afternoon.  She 's  a  darling  girl,  as  fond 
of  painting  and  drawing  almost  as  I  am,  and  hates 
cats.  Oh,  I  do  so  love  a  girl  that  doesn't  like  cats. 
Eh,  pussy,  shall  I  tread  on  your  tail  ? " 

This  question  was  put  to  a  recumbent  cat  which 
lay  coiled  up  in  earthly  bliss  in  front  of  the  fire, 
and  which  Katie  had  to  pass  in  carrying  her  armful 
of  books  and  papers  to  the  sideboard  drawer  in 
which  they  were  wont  to  repose.  She  put  out  her 
foot  as  if  to  carry  her  threat  into  execution. 

"  Dare  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Durant,  with  whom  the 
cat  was  a  favourite. 

"Well,  then,  promise  that  if  Mr.  Queeker' comes 
to-night  you  won't  let  him  stay  to  spoil  our  fun," 
said  Katie,  still  holding  her  foot  over  the  cat's 
unconscious  taiL 

As  she  spoke,  one  of  the  rather  heavy  account- 
books  (which  ought  to  have  been  bound  in  cloth  of 
gold)  slipped  off  the  pile,  and,  as  ill  luck  would  have 
it,  fell  on  the  identical  tail  in  question,  the  cat 
belonging  to  which  sprang  up  with  a  fierce  cater- 
waul in  rampant  indignation. 

"  Oh,  papa,  you  know  I  didn't  mean  it." 

Mr.  Durant's  eyes  twinkled  with  amusement  as 
he  b.eheld  the  sudden  change  of  poor  Katie's  expres- 
sion to  intense  earnestness,  but  before  he  could  reply 


60  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  door  was  thrown  open;  "cousin  Fanny"  rushed 
in,  the  cat  rushed  out,  the  two  youn£  ladies  rushed 
into  each  other's  arms,  and  went  in  a  species  of 
ecstatic  waltz  tip-stairs  to  enjoy  the  delights  of  a 
private  interview,  leaving  Mr.  Durant  to  sink  into 
the  arms  of  his  easy  chair  and  resume  his  paper — 
this  time  with  the  right  side  up  ! 

Let  it  be  understood  that  the  old  gentleman  was 
employed  in  Yarmouth  under  one  of  the  departments 
of  the  Board  of  Trade.  We  refrain  from  entering 
into  particulars  as  to  which  department,  lest^  the 
vindictive  spirit  which  was  accredited  to  that  branch 
of  the  Government  by  Miss  Katie — who  being  a  lady, 
must  of  course  have  been  right — should  induce  it 
to  lay  hold  of  our  estimable  friend  and  make  an 
example  of  him  for  permitting  his  independent 
daughter  to  expose  its  true  character.  In  addi- 
tion to  his  office  in  this  connection  Mr.  Durant  also 
held  the  position  of  a  retired  merchant  and  ship- 
owner, and  was  a  man  of  considerable  wealth, 
although  he  lived  in  a  quiet  unostentatious  way. 
In  fact,  his  post  under  Government  was  retained 
chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  extending  his  influence  in 
his  native  town — for  he  counted  himself  a  "  bloater  " 
— and  enabling  him  to  carry  out  more  vigorously  his 
schemes  of  Christian  philanthropy. 

Cousin  Fanny  Hennings  was  a  "  darling  girl "  in 
Katie's  estimation,  probably  because  she  was  her 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAKDS.  61 

opposite  in  many  respects,  though  not  in  all.  In 
good- humour  and  affection  they  were  similar,  but 
Fanny  had  none  of  Katie's  fire,  or  enthusiasm,  or 
intellect,  or  mischief;  she  had,  however,  a  great 
appreciation  of  fun,  and  was  an  inordinate  giggler. 
Fat,  fair,  and  fifteen,  with  flaxen  curls,  pink  cheeks, 
and  blue  eyes,  she  was  the  leau-idfal  of  a  wax- 
doll,  and  possessed  about  as  much  self-assertion  as 
may  be  supposed  to  belong  to  that  class  of  the  doll- 
community  which  is  constructed  so  as  to  squeak 
when  squeezed.  As  Katie  Durant  squeezed  her 
friend  pretty  often,  both  mentally  and  physically, 
cousin  Fanny  squeaked  a  good  deal  more  than  usual 
during  her  occasional  visits  to  Yarmouth,  and  even 
after  her  return  home  to  Margate,  where  she  and  her 
widowed  mother  dwelt — as  Queeker~poetically  said 
• — "in  a  cottage  by  the  sea."  It  was  usually 
acknowledged  by  all  her  friends  that  Fanny  had 
increased  her  powers  amazingly  while  absent,  in  so 
much  that  she  learned  at  last  to  squeak  on  her  own 
account  without  being  squeezed  at  all. 

After  the  cousins  had  talked  in  private  until 
they  had  made  themselves  almost  too  late  for  the 
singing- class,  they  issued  from  the  house  and  be- 
took themselves  to  the  temple  of  music,  where 
some  amazing  pieces  were  performed  by  some  thirty 
young  vocalists  of  both  sexes  to  their  own  entire 
satisfaction,  and  to  the  entire  dissatisfaction,  appar- 


62  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

eutly,  of  their  teacher,  whose  chief  delight  seemed 
to  be  to  check  the  flow  of  gushing  melody  at  a 
critical  point,  and  exclaim,  "  Try  it  again  I"  Being 
ignorant  of  classical  music  we  do  not  venture  to 
give  an  opinion  on  these  points,  but  it  is  important 
to  state,  as  bearing  on  the  subject  in  a  sanitary 
point  of  view,  that  all  the  pupils  usually  left  the 
class  in  high  spirits,  with  the  exception  of  Queeker, 
who  had  a  voice  like  a  cracked  tea-kettle,  knew 
no  more  about  music  than  Katie's  cat — which  he 
adored  because  it  was  Katie's — and  who  went  to  the 
class,  which  was  indebted  for  its  discord  chiefly  to 
him,  wholly  and  solely  because  Katie  Durant  went 
to  it,  and  thus  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of  occa- 
sionally shaking  hands  with  her. 

On  the  present  evening,  however,  being  of  a  shy 
disposition,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  face  cousin 
Fanny.  He  therefore  left  the  hall  miserable,  and 
went  home  with  desperate  intentions  as  to  the  moon. 
Unfortunately  that  luminary  was  not  visible,  the 
sun  having  just  set,  but  from  his  bedroom  window, 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  roadstead,  he  be- 
held the  lantern  of  the  St.  Nicolas  Gatt  floating- 

o 

light,  and  addressed  the  following  lines  to  it  with  all 
the  fervour  incident  to  a  hopeless  affection  : — 

"  Why  blaze,  ye  bright  benignant  beaming  star, 
Guiding  the  homebound  seaman  from  afar, 
Lighting  the  outbound  wand'rer  on  his  way, 
With  all  the  lightsome  perspicuity  of  day  ? 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  63 

Why  not  go  out  at  once  !  and  let  be  hurl'd 

Dark,  dread,  unmitigated  darkness  o'er  the  -world  ? 

Why  should  the  heavenly  constellations  shine  ? 

Why  should  the  weather  evermore  be  fine  ? 

Why  should  this  rolling  ball  go  whirling  round  ? 

Why  should  the  noise  of  mirth  and  music  sound  ? 

Why  should  the  sparrow  chirp,  the  blackbird  sing, 

The  mountains  echo,  and  the  valleys  ring, 

With  all  that 's  cheerful,  humorous,  and  glad, 

Now  that  my  heart  is  smitten  and  my  brain  gone  mad?  " 

Queeker  fetched  a  long  deep-drawn  sigh  at  this 
poiut,  the  agony  of  intense  composition  being  for  a 
moment  relaxed.  Then,  catching  his  breath  and 
glaring,  he  went  on  in  a  somewhat  gentler  strain, — 

"  Forgive  me,  Floating-light,  and  you,  ye  sun, 
Moon,  stars,  and  elements  of  Nature,  every  one  ; 
I  did  but  vent  my  misery  and  spleen 
In  utt'ring  words  of  fury  that  I  hardly  mean. 
At  least  I  do  in  part — but  hold  !  why  not  ? — 
Oh  !  cease  ye  fiendish  thoughts  that  rage  and  plot 
To  bring  about  my  ruin.     Hence  !  avaunt ! 
Or  else  in  pity  tell  me  what  you  want. 
I  cannot  live,  and  yet  I  woiild  not  die  ! 
My  hopes  are  blighted  !    Where,  oh  whither  shall  I  fly  ? 
'Tis  past !  I  '11  cease  to  dally  with  vain  sophistry, 
And  try  the  virtue  of  a  calm  philosophy." 

The  effect  of  composition  upon  Queeker  was  such 
that  when  he  had  completed  his  task  he  felt  greatly 
tranquillized,  and,  having  shut  up  his  portfolio,  formed 
the  sudden  resolution  of  dropping  in  upon  the 
Durants  to  tea. 

Meantime,  and  before  the  love- sick  youth  had 
begun  the  lines  above  quoted,  Katie  and  her  cousin 
walked  home  by  a  road  which  conducted  them  close 
past  the  edge  of  those  extensive  sandy  plains  called 


64  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  Denes  of  Yarmouth.  Here,  at  the  comer  of  a 
quiet  street,  they  were  arrested  by  the  sobbing  of  a 
little  boy  who  sat  on  a  railing  by  the  roadside, 
swaying  himself  to  and  fro  in  an  agony  of  grief. 

Katie's  sympathetic  heart  was  instantly  touched. 
She  at  once  went  up  to  the  boy,  and  made  earnest 
inquiries  into  the  cause  of  his  distress. 

"  Please,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  've  lost  a  shillin', 
and  I  can't  find  it  nowheres.  Oh,  wot  ever  shall  I 
do  ?  My  mother  gave  it  me  to  give  with  two  other 
bobs  to  my  poor  sick  brother  whom  I  've  corned  all 
this  way  to  see,  and  there  I  've  gone  an'  lost  it,  an' 
I  '11  'ave  to  lay  out  all  night  in  the  cold,  for  I  dursn't 
go  to  see  'im  without  the  money — boo,  hoo  !" 

"  Oh,  how  very  unfortunate  !"  exclaimed  Katie  with 
real  feeling,  for  the  boy,  whose  soul  was  thus  steeped 
to  all  appearance  in  woe  unutterable,  was  very  small, 
and  very  dirty  and  ragged,  and  had  an  extremely 
handsome  intelligent  face,  with  a  profusion  of  wild 
brown  curls.  "  But  I  can  make  that  up  to  you, 
poor  boy,"  she  added,  drawing  out  her  purse,  "  here 
is  a  shilling  for  you.  Where  do  you  live  ?" 

"  At  Ramsgate,  ma'am." 

"  At  Eamsgate  ?"  exclaimed  Katie  in  surprise, 
"  why,  how  did  you  manage  to  get  here  ?" 

"  I  come  in  a  lugger,  ma'am,  as  b'longs  to  a  friend 
o'  ourn.  We've  just  arrived,  an'  we  goes  away  agin 
to-morrow." 


A  SMALL  DECEIVER.— PACE  64. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  65 

"  Indeed  !  That  will  give  you  little  time  to  see 
your  sick  brother.  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  he 's  took  very  bad,  ma'am.  I  'm  sorry 
to  say  he's  bad  altogether,  ma'am.  Bin  an' run' d 
away  from  'ome.  A'most  broke  his  mother's  'eart, 
he  has,  an'  fall'd  sick  here,  he  did." 

The  small  boy  paused  abruptly  at  this  point,  and 
looked  earnestly  in  Katie's  kind  and  pitiful  face. 

"  Where  does  your  brother  live  ?"  asked  Katie. 

The  small  boy  looked  rather  perplexed,  and 
said  that  he  couldn't  rightly  remember  the  name 
of  the  street,  but  that  the  owner  of  the  lugger 
"  know'd  it."  Whereat  Katie  seemed  disappointed, 
and  said  she  would  have  been  so  glad  to  have  visited 
him,  and  given  him  such  little  comforts  as  his  disease 
might  warrant. 

"  Oh,  ma'am,"  exclaimed  the  small  boy,  looking 
wistfully  at  her  with  his  large  blue  eyes,  "  wot  a  pity 
I  've  forgot  it !  The  doctor  ordered  'ini  wine  too — 
it  was  as  much  as  'is  life  was  worth  not  to  'ave  wine, 
— but  of  course  they  couldn't  afford  to  git  'iin  wine — 
even  cheap  wine  would  do  well  enough,  at  two  bob 
or  one  bob  the  bottle.  If  you  was  to  give  me  two 
bob — shillins  I  mean,  ma'am — I  'd  git  it  for  'im 
to-night" 

Katie  and  her  cousin  conversed  aside  in  low  tones 
for  a  minute  or  two  as  to  the  propriety  of  comply- 
ing with  this  proposal,  and  came  to  the  conclusion^ 

E 


66  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

that  the  boy  was  such  a  nice  outspoken  honest-like 
fellow,  that  it  would  do  no  harm  to  risk  that  sum  in 
the  circumstances.  Two  shillings  were  therefore 
put  into  the  boy's  dirty  little  hand,  and  he  was 
earnestly  cautioned  to  take  care  of  it,  which  he 
earnestly,  and  no  doubt  honestly,  promised  to  do. 

"  What  is  your  name,  boy?"  asked  Katie,  as  she 
was  about  to  leave  him. 

"  Billy — Billy  Towler,  ma'am,"  answered  the 
urchin,  pulling  his  forelock  by  way  of  respectful 
acknowledgment,  "but  my  friends  they  calls  me 
Walleye,  chiefly  in  consikence  o'  my  bein'  wery 
much  the  rewerse  of  blind,  ma'am,  and  niver  capable 
of  bein'  cotched  in  a  state  o'  slumber  at  no  time." 

This  reply  had  the  effect  of  slightly  damaging 
the  small  boy's  character  for  simplicity  in  Katie's 
mind,  although  it  caused  both  herself  and  her  com- 
panion to  laugh. 

"Well,  Billy,"  she  said,  opening  her  card- case, 
"  here  is  my  card — give  it  to  your  sick  brother,  and 
when  he  sends  it  to  me  with  his  address  written  on 
the  back  of  it  I  '11  call  on  him." 

"  Thankee,  ma'am,"  said  the  small  boy. 

After  he  had  said  this,  he  stood  silently  watching 
the  retiring  figure  of  his  benefactress,  until  she  was 
out  of  sight,  and  then  dashing  round  the  corner  of  a 
bye-street  which  was  somewhat  retired,  he  there 
went  off  into  uncontrollable  fits  of  laughter— slapped 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  67 

his  small  thighs,  held  his  lean  little  sides  with  both 
hands,  threw  his  ragged  cap  into  the  air,  and  in 
various  other  ways  gave  evidence  of  ecstatic  delight. 
He  was  still  engaged  in  these  violent  demonstra- 
tions of  feeling  when  Morley  Jones — having  just 
landed  at  Yarmouth,  and  left  the  sloop  Nora  in 
Charge  of  young  Welton — came  smartly  round  the 
corner,  and,  applying  his  heavy  boot  to  the  small 
boy's  person,  kicked  him  into  the  middle  of  the 
road. 


68  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE  TEMPTER  AND  THE  TEMPTED. 

"  WHAT  are  ye  howlin'  there  for,  an'  blockin*  tip 
the  Queen's  highway  like  that,  you  precious  young 
villain?"  demanded  Morley  Jones. 

"  An'  wot  are  you  breakin'  the  Queen's  laws  for 
like  that  ?"  retorted  Billy  Towler,  dancing  into  the 
middle  of  the  road  and  revolving  his  small  fists  in 
pugilistic  fashion.  "  You  big  hairy  walrus,  I  don't 
know  whether  to  'ave  you  up  before  the  beaks  for 
assault  and  battery  or  turn  «to  an'  give  'ee  a  good 
HckinV 

Mr.  Jones  showed  all  his  teeth  with  an  approving 
grin,  and  the  small  boy  grinned  in  return,  but  still 
kept  on  revolving  his  fists,  and  warning  the  walrus 
to  "  look  hout  and  defend  hisself  if  he  didn't  want 
his  daylights  knocked  out  or  his  bows  stove  in  !" 

"  You  're  a  smart  youth,  you  are,"  said  Jones. 
"  Ha  !  you  're  afraid,  are  you  ?  an'  wants  to  make 
friends,  but  I  won't  'ave  it  at  no  price.     Come  on, 
will  you  ?" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  69 

Jones,  still  grinning  from  ear  to  ear,  made  a 
rush  at  the  urchin,  who,  however,  evaded  him  with 
such  ease  that  the  man  perceived  he  had  not  the 
smallest  chance  of  catching  him. 

"  I  say,  my  lad,"  he  asked,  stopping  and  becom- 
ing suddenly  grave,  "  where  d'you  come  from?" 

"  I  comes  from  where  I  b'longs  to,  and  where  I  'm 
agoin'  back  to  w'en  it  suits  me." 

"  Very  good,"  retorted  Jones,  "  and  I  suppose  you 
don't  object  to  earn  a  little  money  in  an  easy  way  ?" 

"Yes,  I  do  object,"  replied  Billy ;  "it  ain't  worth 
my  while  to  earn  a  little  money  in  any  way,  no 
matter  how  easy  ;  I  never  deals  in  small  sums.  A 
ft'  pun'  note  is  the  lowest  figur'  as  I  can  stoop  to." 

"  You'll  not  object,  however,  to  a  gift,  I  daresay," 
remarked  Jones,  as  he  tossed  a  half-crown  towards 
the  boy. 

Billy  caught  it  as  deftly  as  a  dog  catches  a  bit  of 
biscuit,  looked  at  it  in  great  surprise,  tossed  it  in  the 
air,  bit  its  rim  critically,  and  finally  slid  it  into  his 
trousers  pocket. 

"  Well,  you  know,"  he  said  slowly,  "  to  obleege  a 
friend,  I  'm  willin'  to  accept." 

"  Now  then,  youngster,  if  I  'm  willing  to  trust  that 
half-crown  in  your  clutches,  you  may  believe  I  have 
got  something  to  say  to  'ee  worth  your  while  listenin' 
to  ;  for  you  may  see  I  'm  not  the  man  to  give  it  to 
'ee  out  o'  Christian  charity." 


70  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  That 's  true,"  remarked  Billy,  who  by  this  time 
had  become  serious,  and  stood  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  still,  however,  at  a  respectful  distance. 

"Well,  the  fact  is,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "that  I've 
bin  lookin'  out  of  late  for  a  smart  lad  with  a  light 
heart  and  a  light  pocket,  and  that  ain't  troubled  with 
much  of  a  conscience." 

"  That 's  me  to  a  tee,"  said  Billy  promptly ;  "  my 
'art 's  as  light  as  a  feather,  and  my  pocket  is  as  light 
as  a  magistrate's  wisdom.  As  for  conscience,  the 
last  beak  as  I  wos  introdooced  to  said  I  must  have 
bin  bom  without  a  conscience  altogether ;  an*  'pon 
my  honour  I  think  he  wos  right,  for  I  never  felt  it 
yet,  though  I  Ve  often  tried — 'xcept  once,  w'en  I  'd 
cleaned  out  the  pocket  oi  a  old  ooman  as  was  starin' 
in  at  a  shop  winder  in  Cheapside,  and  she  fainted 
dead  away  w'en  she  found  it  out,  and  her  little 
grand-darter  looked  so  pale  and  pitiful  that  I  says 
to  myself,  '  Hallo  !  Walleye,  you  Ve  bin  to  the 
wrong  shop  this  time ;  go  an*  put  it  back,  ye  young 
dog ;'  so  I  obeyed  orders,  an'  slipped  back  the  purse 
while  pretendin'  to  help  the  old  ooman.  It  wos 
risky  work,  though,  for  a  bobby  twigged  me,  and  it 
was  only  my  good  wind  and  tough  pair  o'  shanks  that 
saved  me.  Now,"  continued  the  urchin,  knitting 
his  brows  as  he  contemplated  the  knotty  point, 
"  I  Ve  had  my  doubts  whether  that  wos  conscience, 
or  a  sort  o'  nat'ral  weakness  pecooliar  to  my  consti- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  71 

tootion.  I  've  half  a  mind  to  call  on  the  Bishop  of 
London  on  the  point  one  o'  these  days." 

"  So,  you  're  a  city  bird,"  observed  Jones,  admir- 
ingly. 

"  Ah,  and  I  can  see  that  you  're  a  provincial  one," 
replied  Billy,  jingling  the  half-crown  against  the 
silver  in  his  pocket. 

"  What  brings  you  so  far  out  of  your  beat,  Wall- 
eye ? "  inquired  Jones. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  on  circuit  just  now,  makin'  a  tower  of 
the  provinces.  I  tried  a  case  just  before  you  came 
up,  an'  made  three  shillins  out  of  it,  besides  no  end 
o'  promises — which,  unfort'nately,  I  can't  awail 
myself  of — from  a  sweet  young  lady,  with  such  a 
pleasant  face,  that  I  wished  I  could  adopt  her  for  a 
darter.  But  that's  an  expensive  luxury,  you  see; 
can't  afford  it  yet." 

"Well,  youngster,"  said  Jones,  assuming  a  more 
grave  yet  off-hand  air,  "  if  you  choose  to  trust  me, 
I  '11  put  you  in  the  way  of  makin'  some  money  with- 
out much  trouble.  It  only  requires  a  little  false 
swearing,  which  I  daresay  you  are  used  to." 

"  No,  I  ain't,"  retorted  the  urchin  indignantly ;  "  I 
never  tells  a  lie  'xcept  w'en  I  can't  help  it.  Then, 
of  course,  a  feller  must  do  it !" 

"  Just  so,  Walleye,  them 's  my  sentiments.  Have 
you  got  a  father  ? " 

"  No,  nor  yet  a  mother,"  replied  Billy.     "  As  far 


72  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

as  I  'm  aweer  of,  I  wos  disldvered  on  the  steps  of  a 
city  work'us,  an'  my  first  impressions  in  this  life 
wos  the  knuckles  of  the  old  woman  as  banged  me 
up.  The  governor  used  to  talk  a  lot  o'  balderdash 
about  our  bein'  brought  up  ;  but  I  knows  better.  I 
wos  banged  up ;  banged  up  in  the  mornins,  banged 
to  meals,  and  banged  to  bed ;  banged  through  thick 
and  thin,  for  everything  an'  for  nothin',  until  I 
banged  myself  out  o'  the  door  one  fine  mornin', 
which  I  banged  arter  me,  an'  'ave  bin  bangin'  about, 
a  gen'lem'n  at  large,  ever  since." 

"Ha!  got  no  friends  and  nothin'  to  do?"  said 
Morley  Jones. 

"Jisso." 

"  Well,  if  you  have  a  mind  to  take  service  with 
me,  come  along  an'  have  a  pot  o'  beer." 

The  man  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  off  to  a 
neighbouring  public-house,  leaving  the  small  boy  to 
follow  or  not  as  he  pleased,  and  apparently  quite 
indifferent  as  to  what  his  decision  might  be. 

Billy  Towler — alias  Walleye — looked  after  him 
with  an  air  of  uncertainty.  He  did  not  like  the  look 
of  the  man,  and  was  about  to  decide  against  him, 
when  the  jingle  of  the  half-crown  in  his  pocket 
turned  the  scale  in  his  favour.  Eunning  after  him, 
he  quietly  said,  "  I  'm  your  man,"  and  then  began  to 
whistle,  at  the  same  time  making  an  abortive  effort 
to  keep  step  with  his  long-limbed  employer,  who 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  73 

said  nothing  in  reply,~but,  entering  a  public-house, 
ordered  two  pots  of  beer.  These,  when  produced, 
he  and  his  little  companion  sat  down  to  discuss  in 
the  most  retired  box  in  the  place,  and  conversed  in 
low  tones. 

"  What  was  it  brought  you  to  Yarmouth,  Wall- 
eye ? "  asked  Mr.  Jones. 

"  Call  me  Billy,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  like  it  better." 

"  Well,  Billy — and,  by  the  way,  you  may  call  me 
Morley — my  name 's  Jones,  but,  like  yourself,  I  have 
a  preference.  Now,  then,  what  brought  you  here  ? " 

"  H'm,  that  involves  a  story — a  hanecdote,  if  I 
may  so  speak,"  replied  this  precocious  youngster 
with  much  gravity.  "You  see,  some  time  arter  I 
runn'd  away  from  the  work'us,  I  fell'd  in  with  an 
old  gen'lem'n  with  a  bald  head  an'  a  fat  corpus.  Do 
'ee  happen  to  know,  Mr.  Morley,  'ow  it  is  that  bald 
heads  an'  fat  corpuses  a'most  always  go  together  ? " 

Morley  replied  that  he  felt  himself  unable  to 
answer  that  difficult  question ;  but  supposed  that  as 
good-humour  was  said  to  make  people  fat,  perhaps 
it  made  them  bald  also. 

"  I  dun  know,"  continued  Billy ;  "  anyhow,  this 
old  gen'lem'n  he  took'd  a  fancy  to  me,  an'  took'd 
me  home  to  his  'otel ;  for  he  didn't  live  in  London 
— wos  there  only  on  a  wisit  at  the  time  he  felled  in 
love  with  me  at  first  sight.  Well,  he  give  me  a 
splendacious  suit  of  noo  clo'es,  an  'ad  me  put  to  a 


74  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

school,  where  1  soon  lamed  to  read  and  write ;  an* 
I  do  b'lieve  wos  on  the  highroad  to  be  Lord  Mayor 
of  London,  when  the  old  schoolmaster  died,  before 
I  'd  bin  two  year  there,  an'  the  noo  un  wos  so  fond 
o'  the  bangin'  system  that  I  couldn't  stand  it,  an'  so 
bid  'em  all  a  tender  farewell,  an'  took  to  the  streets 
agin.  The  old  gen'lem'n  he  corned  three  times  from 
Yarmouth,  where  he  belonged,  for  to  see  me  arter  I 
wos  put  to  the  school,  an'  I  had  a  sort  o'  likin'  for 
him,  but  not  knowin'  his  name,  and  only  been  aweer 
that  he  lived  at  Yarmouth,  I  thought  I  'd  have  no 
chance  o'  findin'  him.  Over  my  subsikint  career 
1 11  draw  a  wail ;  it 's  enough  to  say  I  didn't  like 
either  ifr-or  my  pals,  so  I  made  up  my  mind  at  last 
to  go  to  Yarmouth  an'  try  to  find  the  old  gen'lem'n 
as  had  adopted  ine — that 's  what  he  said  he  'd  done 
to  me.  Wen  I  'd  prigged  enough  o'  wipes  to  pay 
my  fare  down,  I  coined  away, — an'  here  I  am." 

"Have  you  seen  the  old  gentleman?"  asked 
Morley,  after  a  pause. 

"  No,  only  just  arrived  this  arternoon." 

"  And  you  don't  know  his  name,  nor  where  he 
lives?" 

"No." 

"  And  how  did  you  expect  to  escape  bein'  nabbed 
and  put  in  limbo  as  a  vagrant  ?"  inquired  Morley. 

"By  gittin'  employment,  of  coorse,  from  some 
respectable  gen'lem'n  like  yourself,  an'  then  runnin' 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  75 

away  from  'im  w'en  I  'd  diskivered  tlie  old  chap  wi' 
the  bald  head." 

Morley  Jones  smiled  grimly. 

"  Well,  my  advice  to  you  is,"  he  said,  "  to  fight 
shy  of  the  old  chap,  even  if  you  do  discover  him. 
Depend  upon  it  the  life  you  would  lead  under  his 
eye  would  be  one  of  constant  restraint  and  worry. 
He  'd  put  you  to  school  again,  no  doubt,  where  you  'd 
get  banged  as  before — a  system  I  don't  approve  of 
at  all — and  be  made  a  milksop  and  a  flunkey,  or 
something  o'  that  sort — whereas  the  life  you  '11  lead 
with  me  will  be  a  free  and  easy  rollikin'  manly  sort 
o'  life.  Half  on  shore  and  half  at  sea.  Do  what 
you  like,  go  where  you  will, — when  business  has 
bin  attended  to — victuals  and  clothing  free  gratis, 
and  pocket-money  enough  to  enable  you  to  enjoy 
yourself  in  a  moderate  sort  of  way.  You  see  I  'm  not 
goin'  to  humbug  you.  It  won't  be  all  plain  sailin', 
but  what  is  a  man  worth  if  he  ain't  fit  to  stand  a  little 
rough-and-tumble?  Besides,  rough  work  makes  a 
fellow  take  his  ease  with  all  the  more  zest.  A  life 
on  the  ocean  wave  one  week,  with  hard  work,  and  a 
run  on  shore  the  next  week,  with  just  enough  to  do 
to  prevent  one  wearyin'.  That 's  the  sort  o'  thing  for 
you  and  me,  Billy,  eh  boy  ?"  exclaimed  the  tempter, 
growing  garrulous  in  his  cups,  and  giving  his  small 
victim  a  pat  on  the  shoulder,  which,  although  meant 
to  be  a  facetious  touch,  well-nigh  unseated  him. 


76  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Billy  Towler  recovered  himself,  however,  and  re  • 
ceived  it  as  it  was  meant,  in  perfect  good  humour. 
The  beer  had  mounted  to  his  own  little  brain,  and 
his  large  eyes  glowed  with  more  than  natural  light 
as  he  sat  gazing  into  his  companion's  rugged  face, 
listening  with  delight  to  the  description  of  a  mode 
of  life  which  he  thought  admirably  suited  to  his 
tastes  and  capabilities.  He  was,  however,  a  shrewd 
little  creature.  Sad  and  very  rough  experience  of 
life  had  taught  him  to  be  uncommonly  circumspect 
for  his  years. 

"What's  your  business,  Morley?"  he  demanded 
eagerly. 

"  I  Ve  a  lot  of  businesses,"  said  Mr.  Jones  with  a 
drunken  leer,  "  but  my  principal  one  is  fishcuring. 
I'm  a  sort  of  shipowner  too.  Leastwise  I've  got 
two  craft — one  bein'  a  sloop,  the  other  a  boat. 
Moreover,  I  charter  no  end  of  vessels,  an'  do  a  good 
deal  in  the  insurance  way.  But  you  11  understand 
more  about  these  things  all  in  good  time,  Billy.  I 
live,  while  I  'm  at  home,  in  Gravesend,  but  I  Ve  got 
a  daughter  and  a  mother  livin'  at  Yarmouth,  so  I 
may  say  I've  got  a  home  at  both  places.  It's  a 
convenient  sort  o'  thing,  you  see, — a  town  residence 
and  a  country  villa,  as  it  were.  Come,  I  '11  take  you 
to  the  villa  now,  and  introduce  'ee  to  the  women." 

So  saying,  this  rascal  paid  for  the  poison  he  had 
been  administering  in  large  doses  to  himself  and  his 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  77 

apprentice,  and,  takin'g  Billy's  dirty  little  hand  in 
his  large  horny  fist,  led  him  towards  the  centre 
of  the  town. 

Poor  Billy  little  knew  the  nature  of  the  awful 
gulf  of  sin  and  misery  into  which  he  was  now 
plunging  with  a  headlong  hilarious  vivacity  pecu- 
liarly his  own.  He  was,  indeed,  well  enough  aware 
of  the  fact  that  he  was  a  thief,  and  an  outcast  from 
society,  and  that  he  was  a  habitual  breaker  of  the 
laws  of  God  and  man,  but  he  was  naturally  ignorant 
of  the  extent  of  his  guilt,  as  well  as  of  the  certain 
and  terrible  end  to  which  it  pointed,  and,  above  all, 
he  had  rfot  the  most  remote  conception  of  the  almost 
hopeless  slavery  to  which  he  was  doomed  when 
once  fairly  secured  in  the  baleful  net  which  Morley 
Jones  had  begun  to  twine  around  him. 

But  a  higher  Power  was  leading  the  poor  child  in 
a  way  that  he  knew  not — a  way  that  was  little 
suspected  by  his  tempter — a  way  that  has  been  the 
means  of  snatching  many  and  many  a  little  one 
from  destruction  in  time  past,  and  that  will  cer- 
tainly save  many  more  in  time  to  come — as  long  as 
Christian  men  and  women  band  together  to  unite 
their  prayers  and  powers  for  the  rescue  of  perishing 
souls. 

Traversing  several  streets  with  unsteady  gait — 
for  he  was  now  much  the  worse  of  drink — Mr. 
Jones  led  his  willing  captive  down  one  of  those 


78  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

innumerable  narrow  streets,  or  passages,  termed 
"rows,"  which  bear  some  resemblance  to  the  "closes" 
of  the  Scottish  capital.  In  width  they  are  much 
the  same,  but  in  cleanliness  there  is  a  vast  difference, 
for  whereas  the  closes  of  the  northern  capital  are 
notorious  for  dirt,  the  rows  of  Yarmouth  are  cele- 
brated for  their  neat  tidy  aspect.  What  the  cause 
of  the  neatness  of  the  latter  may  be  we  cannot  tell, 
but  we  can  bear  the  testimony  of  an  eye-witness  to 
the  fact  that — considering  the  class  of  inhabitants 
who  dwell  in  them,  their  laborious  lives  and  limited 
means — the  rows  are  wondrously  clean.  Nearly  all 
of  them  are  paved  with  pebbles  or  bricks.  The 
square  courts  opening  out  of  them  on  right  and  left, 
although  ridiculously  small,  are  so  thoroughly  scoured 
and  swept  that  one  might  roll  on  their  floors  with 
white  garments  and  remain  unsoiled.  In  each  court 
may  be  observed  a  water-bucket  and  scrubbing-brush 
wet,  usually,  from  recent  use,  also  a  green  painted 
box-garden  of  dimensions  corresponding  to  the  court, 
full  of  well-tended  flowers.  Almost  every  door  has 
a  wooden  or  stone  step,  and  each  step  is  worn  and 
white  with  repeated  scrubbings — insomuch  that  one 
is  irresistibly  led  to  suspect  that  the  "  Bloaters " 
must  have  a  strong  infusion  of  the  Dutch  element 
in  their  nature. 

Emerging  at  the  lower  end  of  the  row,  Mr.  Jones 
and  his  small  companion  hastened  along  the  centre 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAXDS.  79 

of  a  narrow  street  whic"h  led  them  into  one  of  much 
wider  dimensions,  named  Friar's  Lane.  Proceeding 
along  this  for  some  time,  they  diverged  to  the  right 
into  another  of  the  rows  not  far  from  the  old  city- 
wall,  at  a  place  where  one  of  the  massive  towers 
still  rears  its  rugged  head  as  a  picturesque  ruin. 
The  moon  sailed  out  from  under  a  mass  of  clouds 
at  this  point,  giving  to  objects  the  distinctness  of 
daylight.  Hitherto  Billy  Towler  had  retained  some 
idea  of  the  direction  in  which  he  was  being  led, 
but  this  last  turn  threw  his  topographical  ideas  into 
utter  confusion. 

"A  queer  place  this,"  he  remarked,  as  they 
emerged  from  the  narrowest  passage  they  had  yet 
traversed  into  a  neat,  snug,  and  most  unexpected 
little  square,  with  a  garden  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  a 
flagstaff  in  one  corner. 

"  Adam-and-Eve  gardens,  they  call  it,"  said  Mr. 
Jones ;  "  we  're  pretty  nigh  home  now." 

"  I  wonder  they  didn't  call  it  Eden  at  once,"  ob- 
served Billy ;  "  it  would  have  been  shorter  and 
comes  to  the  same  thing." 

"  Here  we  are  at  last,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  stumbling 
against  a  small  door  in  one  of  the  network  of  rows 
that  surrounded  this  Yarmouth  paradise.  "  Hope 
the  women  are  in,"  he  added,  attempting  to  lift 
the  latch,  but,  finding  that  the  door  was  locked,  he 
hammered  at  it  with  foot  and  fist  violently. 


80  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Hallo  !"  shouted  the  deep  voice  of  a  man  within. 

"  Hallo,  indeed  !  Who  may  you  be  ?"  growled 
Mr.  Jones  with  an  angry  oath.  "  Op'en  the  door, 
will  you?" 

.    The  door  was  opened  at  once  by  James  Welton, 
who  stood  aside  to  let  the  other  pass. 

"  Oh !  it 's  you,  is  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  Didn't 
recognise  your  voice  through  the  door.  I  thought 
you  couldn't  have  got  the  sloop  made  snug  so  soon. 
Well,  lass,  how  are  'ee ;  and  how 's  the  old  ooman  ?" 

As  the  man  made  these  inquiries  in  a  half-hearty 
voice,  he  advanced  into  a  poorly-furnished  apart- 
ment, so  small  and  low  that  it  seemed  a  couple  of 
sizes  too  small  for  him,  and  bestowed  a  kiss  first' 
upon  the  cheek  of  his  old  mother,  who  sat  cowering 
over  the  fire,  but  brightened  up  on  hearing  his  voice, 
and  then  upon  the  forehead  of  his  daughter  Nora, 
the  cheerfulness  of  whose  greeting,  however,  was 
somewhat  checked  when  she  observed  the  intoxi- 
cated state  of  her  father. 

Nora  had  a  face  which,  though  not  absolutely 
pretty,  was  intensely  winsome  in  consequence  of  an 
air  of  quiet  womanly  tenderness  which  surrounded 
it  as  with  a  halo.  She  was  barely  eighteen,  but 
her  soft  eyes  possessed  a  look  of  sorrow  and  suffer- 
ing which,  if  not  natural  to  them,  had,  at  all  events, 
become  habitual. 

"  Who  is  this  little  boy,  father?"  she  said,  turn- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  81 

ing  towards  Billy  Towler,  who  still  stood  in  the 
doorway  a  silent  but  acute  observer  of  all  that 
went  on. 

"  Oh,  that  ?  why — a — that 's  my  noo  'prentice  just 
come  down  from  Gravesend.  He's  been  helpin' 
for  some  time  in  the  '  hang' "  (by  which  Mr.  Jones 
meant  the  place  where  his  fish  were  cured),  "and 
I  'm  goin'  to  take  him  to  sea  with  me  next  trip. 
Come  in,  Billy,  and  make  yourself  at  home." 

The  boy  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  made  no 
objection  to  a  cup  of  tea  and  slice  of  bread  and 
butter  which  Nora  placed  before  him — supper  being 
just  then  in  progress. 

"You'd  better  get  aboard  as  soon  as  may 
be,"  said  Jones  to  Jim  "Welton  somewhat  sternly. 
"I  didn't  expect  you  to  leave  the  sloop  to- 
night" 

"  And  I  didn't  intend  to  leave  her,"  replied  Jinn, 
taking  no  notice  of  the  tone  in  which  this  was 
said ;  "  but  I  thought  I  'd  come  up  to  ask  if  you 
wished  me  to  begin  dischargin'  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  No,  we  're  not  going  to  discharge,"  returned 
Jones. 

"  Not  going  to  discharge  !"  echoed  Jim  in  surprise. 

"  No.  I  find  that  it 's  not  worth  while  discharg- 
ing any  part  of  the  cargo  here.  On  the  contrary,  I 
mean  to  fill  up  with  bloaters  and  run  over  with 

F 


82  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

them  to  the  coast  of  France  ;  so  you  can  go  and 
stow  the  top  tier  of  casks  more  firmly,  and  get  ready 
for  the  noo  ones.  Good-night." 

The  tone  in  which  this  was  said  left  no  excuse  for 
Jim  to  linger,  so  he  bade  the  household  good-night 
and  departed. 

He  had  not  gone  far,  however,  when  he  was  ar- 
rested by  the  sound  of  a  light  footstep.  It  was  that 
of  Nora,  who  had  followed  him. 

"Nora!"  exclaimed  the  young  sailor  in  surprise, 
returning  quickly  and  taking  one  of  the  girl's  hands 
in  both  of  his. 

"Oh,  Jim !"  said  Nora,  with  a  look  and  tone  of 
earnest  entreaty,  "  don't,  don't  forsake  him  just 
now — if  the  love  which  you  have  so  often  pro- 
fessed for  me  be  true,  don't  forsake  him,  I  beseech 
you." 

Jim  protested  in  the  most  emphatic  terms  that 
he  had  no  intention  of  forsaking  anybody,  and  made 
a  great  many  more  protestations,  in  the  midst  of 
which  there  were  numerous  ardent  and  more  or 
less  appropriate  references  to  hearts  that  never 
deserted  their  colours,  sheet-anchors  that  held  on 
through  thick  and  thin,  and  needles  that  pointed, 
without  the  smallest  shadow  of  variation,  to  the 
pole. 

"  But  what  makes  you  think  I  'm  going  to  leave 
him  ? "  he  asked,  at  the  end  of  one  of  those  flights. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  83 

"  Because  he  is  so  rough  to  'ee,  Jim,"  replied  the 
girl,  leaning  her  head  on  her  lover's  shoulder ;  "  he 
spoke  so  gruff  even  now,  and  I  thought  you  went 
away  huffed.  Oh,  Jim,  you  are  the  only  one  ^feat 
has  any  influence  over  him — " 

"  Not  the  only  one,"  returned  Jim,  quietly 
smoothing  the  fair  girl's  hair  with  his  hard  strong 
hand. 

"Well,  the   only  man,  at  any  rate,"  continued 
Nora,  "  especially  when  he  is  overcome  with  that 
dreadful  drink.     Dear  Jim,  you  won't  forsake  him, 
will  you,  even  though  he  should  insult,  even  though* 
he  should  strike  you  ? "     • 

"  No,  never !  Because  he  is  your  father,  Nora, 
I  '11  stick  by  him  in  spite  of  all  he  can  say  or  do  to 
me,  and  try,  God  helping  me,  to  save  him.  But  I 
cannot  stick  by  him  if — " 

"If  what?"  asked  the  girl  anxiously,  observing 
that  he  hesitated. 

"  If  he  does  anything  against  the  laws,"  said  Jim 
in  a  low  voice.  "  It  isn't  that  I  'm  afraid  Of  my 
good  name — I  'd  even  let  that  go,  for  your  sake,  if 
by  so  doing  I  could  get  him  out  of  mischief;  and  as 
long  as  I  know  nothing  against  him  for  certain,  1 11 
stand  by  him.  But  if  he  does  fall,  and  I  come  to 
know  it,  I  must  leave  him,  Nora,  because  I  won't  be 
art  and  part  in  it.  I  could  no  longor  go  on  my 
knees  to  pray  for  him  if  I  did  that,  Nora.  More- 


84  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

over,  if  anything  o'  that  sort  should  happen,  I 
must  leave  the  country,  because  he'd  be  sure 
to  be  caught  and  tried,  and  I  will  never  stand 
witness  against  your  father  if  I  can  avoid  it  by 
fair  means." 

Poor  Nora  hung  her  head  as  she  asked  in  a  low 
voice  if  Jim  really  thought  her  father  was  engaged 
in  illegal  practices. 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  do,"  replied  the  youth  earnestly. 
"  Come,  cheer  'up,  dearest  Nora.  After  all,  it  is 
chiefly  through  reports  that  my  suspicions  have  been 
aroused,  and  we  all  know  how  easy  it  is  for  an  enemy 
to  raise  an  evil  report  But,  Nora,  I  wish  you  had 
not  bound  me  to  secrecy  as  to  my  reason  for  stick- 
ing by  your  father.  Why  should  I  not  say  boldly 
that  it's  all  for  love  of  you  ?" 

"  Why  should  you  wish  to  give  any  reason  at  all, 
Jim,  and  above  all,  that  reason  ?"  asked  Nora,  look- 
ing up  with  a  blush. 

"  Because,"  said  the  youth,  with  a  perplexed  look, 
"my  secrecy  about  the  matter  has  puzzled  my 
father  to  such  an  extent  that  his  confidence  in  me  is 
entirely  shaken.  I  have  been  all  my  life  accus- 
tomed to  open  all  my  heart  to  him,  and  now,  without 
rhyme  or  reason,  as  he  thinks,  I  have  suddenly  gone 
right  round  on  the  other  tack,  and  at  the  same  time, 
as  he  says,  I  have  taken  up  with  doubtful  company. 
Now,  if—" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  85 

The  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  here  brought 
the  interview  to  an  abrupt  close.  Nora  ran  back  to 
her  poor  home,  and  Jim  "Welton,  directing  his  steps 
towards  the  harbour,  returned  on  board  the  little 
sloop  which  had  been  named  after  the  girl  of  his 
heart. 


86  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

TREATS  OF  QUEERER  AND  OTHERS — ALSO  OF  YOUTHFUL  JEALOUSY, 
LOVE,  POETRY,  AND  CONFUSION  OF  IDEAS. 

KETURNING,  now,  to  the  moon- struck  and  Katie- 
pmitten  Queeker,  we  find  that  poetic  individual 
walking  disconsolately  in  front  of  Mr.  George 
Durant's  mansion. 

In  a  previous  chapter  it  has  been  said  that,  after 
composing  his  celebrated  lines  to  the  lantern  of  the 
floating  light,  he  resolved  to  drop  in  upon  the 
Durants  about  tea-time — and  well  did  Queeker 
know  their  tea-time,  although,  every  time  he  went 
there  uninvited,  the  miserable  hypocrite  expressed 
surprise  at  finding  them  engaged  with  that  meal, 
and  said  he  had  supposed  they  must  have  finished 
tea  by  that  time  ! 

But,  on  arriving  at  the  corner,  of  the  street,  his 
fluttering  heart  failed  him.  The  thought  of  the 
cousin  was  a  stumbling-block  which  he  could  not 
surmount.  He  had  never  met  her  before  ;  he  feared 
that  she  might  be  witty,  or  sarcastic,  or  sharp  in 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  87 

some  way  or  other,  and  would  certainly  make  game 
of  him  in  the  presence  of  Katie.  He  had  observed 
this  cousin  narrowly  at  the  singing-class,  and  had 
been  much  impressed  with  her  appearance;  but 
whether  this  impression  was  favourable  or  unfavour- 
able was  to  him,  in  the  then  confused  state  of  his 
feelings,  a  matter  of  great  uncertainty.  Now  that 
he  was  about  to  face  her,  he  felt  convinced  that  she 
must  be  a  cynic,  who  would  poison  the  mind  of 
Katie  against  him,  and  no  power  within  his  unfortu- 
nate body  was  capable  of  inducing  him  to  advance 
and  raise  the  knocker. 

Thus  he  hung  in  torments  of  suspense  until  nine 
o'clock,  when,  in  a  fit  of  desperation,  he  rushed 
madly  at  the  door  and  committed  himself  by  hitting 
it  with  his  fist 

His  equanimity  was  not  restored  by  its  being 
opened  by  Mr.  Durant  himself. 

"  Queeker  !"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman  in  sur- 
prise ;  "  come  in,  my  dear  sir ;  did  you  stumble 
against  the  door  ?  I  hope  you  haven't  hurt  your- 
self?" 

"  Not  at  all — a — no,  not  at  all ;  the  fact  is,  I  ran 
up  the  steps  rather  hastily,  and — how  do  you  do, 
Miss  Durant  ?  I  hope  you  are  quite  well  ?" 

Poor  Queeker  said  this  and  shook  hands  with  as 
much  earnestness  as  if  he  had  not  seen  Katie  for 
five  years. 


88  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Quite  well,  thank  you.  My  cousin,  Fanny 
Hennings — Mr.  Queeker." 

Fanny  bowed  and  Mr.  Queeker  bowed,  and,  with 
a  flushed  countenance,  asked  her  about  the  state  of 
her  health  with  unnatural  anxiety. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Squeeker,  I  am  very  well," 
replied  Fanny. 

The  unhappy  youth  would  have  corrected  her  in 
regard  to  his  name,  but  hesitated  and  missed  the 
opportunity,  and  when,  shortly  afterwards,  while 
engaged  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Durant,  he  ob- 
served Fanny  giggling  violently  in  a  corner  by  her- 
self, he  felt  assured  that  Katie  had  kindly  made  the 
correction  for  him. 

The  announcement  of  supper  relieved  him  slightly, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  calm  down  over  a  piece  of 
bread  and  cheese  when  the  door-bell  rang.  Imme- 
diately after  a  heavy  foot  was  heard  in  the  passage, 
the  parlour  door  was  flung  open,  the  maid  announced 
Mr.  Hall,  and  a  tall  elegant  young  man  entered  the 
room.  His  figure  was  slender,  but  his  chest  was 
deep  and  bis  shoulders  were  broad  and  square.  An 
incipient  moustache  of  fair  hair  floated  like  a  sum- 
mer cloud  on  Jiis  upper  lip,  which  expanded  with  a 
hearty  smile  as  he  advanced  towards  Mr.  Durant 
and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  You  have  forgotten  me,  I  fear,"  he  said. 

"Forgotten  you !"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  89 

starting  up  and  seizing  the  young  man's  hand,  which 
he  shook  violently — "  forgotten  Stanley  Hall — little 
Stanney,  as  I  used  to  call  you  ?  Man,  how  you  are 
grown,  to  be  sure.  What  a  wonderful  change  !" 

"For  the  worse,  I  fear!"  exclaimed  the  youth, 
laughing. 

"  Come,  no  fishing  for  compliments,  sir.  Let  me 
introduce  you  to  my  daughter  Katie,  my  niece 
Fanny  Hennings,  and  my  young  friend  Queeker. 
Now,  then,  sit  down,  and  make  yourself  at  home; 
you  're  just  in  time ;  we  've  only  just  begun ;  ring 
the  bell  for  another  plate,  Katie.  How  glad  I  am 
to  see  you,  Stanney,  my  boy — I  can't  call  you  by 
any  other  than  the  old  name,  you  see.  How  did 
you  leave  your  father,  and  what  brings  you  here  ? 
Come,  out  with  it  all  at  once.  I  declare  you  have 
quite  excited  me." 

Well  was  it  for  poor  Queeker  that  every  one  was 
too  much  occupied  with  the  new  comer  to  pay  any 
attention  to  him,  for  he  could  not  prevent  his  visage 
from  betraying  something  of  the  feelings  which  har- 
rowed up  his  soul.  The  moment  he  set  eyes  on 
Stanley  Hall,  mortal  jealousy — keen,  rampant,  viru- 
lent jealousy  of  the  worst  type — penetrated  every 
fibre  of  his  being,  and  turned  his  heart  to  stone ! 
We  cannot  afford  space  to  detail  the  various  shades 
of  agony,  the  degrees  of  despair,  through  which  this 
unfortunate  young  man  passed  during  that  evening. 


90  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

A  thick  volume  would  not  suffice  to  contain  it  all 
Language  is  powerless  to  express  it.  Only  those 
who  have  similarly  suffered  can  conceive  it. 

Of  course,  we  need  scarcely  add  that  there  was  no 
occasion  for  jealousy.  Nothing  was  further  from 
the  mind  of  Stanley  than  the  idea  of  falling  in  love 
with  Katie.  Nevertheless,  politeness  required  that 
he  should  address  himself  to  her  occasionally.  At 
such  times,  Queeker's  soul  was  stabbed  in  an  un- 
utterable manner.  He  managed  to  command  him- 
self, notwithstanding.  To  his  credit,  be  it  said,  that 
he  refrained  from  using  the  carving-knife.  He  even 
joined  with  some  show  of  interest  (of  course  hypo- 
critical) in  the  conversation. 

Stanley  Hall  was  not  only  good-looking,  but  good- 
humoured,  and  full  of  quiet  fun  and  anecdote,  so 
that  he  quickly  ingratiated  himself  with  all  the 
members  of  the  family. 

"  D'  you  know  it  makes  me  feel  young  again  to 
hear  these  old  stories  about  your  father's  college-life," 
said  Mr.  Durant.  "  Have  some  more  cheese,  Stan- 
ney — you  look  like  a  man  who  ought  to  have  a  good 
appetite — fill  your  glass  and  pass  the  bottle — thanks. 
Now,  how  comes  it  that  you  have  turned  up  in  this 
out-of-the-way  part  of  the  world?  By-the-bye,  I 
hope  you  intend  to  stay  some  time,  and  that  you 
will  take  up  your  quarters  with  me  ?  You  can't 
imagine  how  much  pleasure  it  would  give  me  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  91 

have  the  son  of  my  old  companion  as  a  guest  for 
some  time.  I'm  sure  that  Katie  joins  me  heartily 
in  this  hope." 

Queeker's  spirit  sank  with  horror,  and  when  Katie 
smilingly  seconded  her  father's  proposal,  his  heart 
stood  still  with  dismay.  Fanny  Hennings,  who  had 
begun  to  suspect  that  there  was  something  wrong 
with  Queeker,  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  mouth, 
and  coughed  with  what  appeared  to  be  unreasonable 
energy. 

"I  regret,"  said  Stanley  (and  Queeker's  breath 
came  more  freely),  "  that  my  stay  must  necessarily  be 
short.  I  need  not  say  that  it  would  afford  me  the 
highest  pleasure  to  accept  your  kind  invitation"  (he 
turned  with  a  slight  bow  to  Katie,  and  Queeker  al- 
most fainted),  "but  the  truth  is,  that  I  have  come 
down  on  a  particular  piece  of  business,  in  regard  to 
which  I  wish  to  have  your  advice,  and  must  return 
to  London  to-morrow  or  next  day  at  furthest." 

Queeker's  heart  resumed  its  office. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that — very  sorry.  However, 
you  shall  stay  to-night  at  all  events ;  and  you  shall 
have  the  best  advice  I  can  give  you  on  any  subject 
you  choose  to  mention.  By  the  way,  talking  of 
advice,  you  're  an  M.D.  now,  I  fancy  ?" 

"Not  yet,"  replied  Stanley.  "I  am  not  quite 
fledged,  although  nearly  so,  and  I  wish  to  go  on  a 
voyage  before  completing  my  course." 


92  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Quite  right,  quite  right — see  a  little  of  life  first, 
eh?  But  how  comes  it,  Stanney,  that  you  took 
kindly  to  the  work  at  last,  for,  when  I  knew  you 
first  you  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  becoming  a 
doctor  ?" 

"  One's  ideas  change,  I  suppose,"  replied  the  youth, 
with  a  smile, — "  probably  my  making  the  discovery 
that  I  had  some  talent  in  that  direction  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  it." 

"  H'm;  how  did  you  make  that  discovery,  my  boy?" 
asked  the  old  gentleman. 

"  That  question  can't  easily  be  answered  except 
by  my  inflicting  on  you  a  chapter  of  my  early  life," 
replied  Stanley,  laughing. 

"  Then  inflict  it  on  us  without  delay,  my  boy.  I 
shall  delight  to  listen,  and  so,  I  am  sure,  will  Katie 
and  Fanny.  As  to  my  young  friend  Queeker,  he  is 
of  a  somewhat  literary  turn,  and  may  perhaps  throw 
the  incidents  into  verse,  if  they  are  of  a  sufficiently 
romantic  character ! " 

Katie  and  Fanny  declared  they  would  be  charmed 
to  hear  about  it,  and  Queeker  said,  in  a  savagely 
jesting  tone,  that  he  was  so  used  to  things  being  in- 
flicted on  him,  that  he  didn't  mind — rather  liked  it 
than  otherwise  ! 

"  But  you  must  not  imagine,"  said  Stanley,  "  that 
I  have  a  thrilling  narrative  to  give  you.  I  can 
merely  relate  the  two  incidents  which  fixed  my 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  93 

destiny  in  regard  to  a  profession.  You  remember, 
I  daresay,  that  my  heart  was  once  set  upon  going  to 
sea.  "Well,  like  most  boys,  I  refused  to  listen  to 
advice  on  that  point,  and  told  my  father  that  I  should 
never  make  a  surgeon — that  I  had  no  taste  or  talent 
for  the  medical  profession.  The  more  my  father 
tried  to  reason  me  out  of  my  desire,  the  more  obstinate 
I  became.  The  only  excuse  that  I  can  plead  is  that 
I  was  very  young,  very  ignorant,  and  very  stupid. 
One  day,  however,  I  was  left  in  the  surgery  with  a 
number  of  dirty  phials  to  wash — my  father  having 
gone  to  visit  a  patient  at  a  short  distance,  when  our 
servant  came  running  in,  saying  that  there  was  a 
cab  at  the  door  with  a  poor  boy  who  had  got  his 
cheek  badly  cut  As  I  knew  that  my  father  would 
be  at  home  in  less  than  quarter  of  an  hour,  I  ordered 
him  to  be  brought  in.  The  poor  child — a  little  deli- 
cate boy — was  very  pale,  and  bleeding  profusely 
from  a  deep  gash  in  the  cheek,  made  accidentally 
by  a  knife  with  which  he  had  been  playing.  The 
mouth  was  cut  open  almost  to  the  ear.  We  laid 
him  on  a  sofa,  and  I  did  what  I  could  to  stop  the 
flow  of  blood.  I  was  not  sixteen  at  the  time,  and, 
being  very  small  for  my  age,  had  never  before  felt 
myself  in  a  position  to  offer  advice,  and  indeed  I 
had  not  much  to  offer.  But  one  of  the  bystanders 
said  to  me  while  we  were  looking  at  the  child, — 
"  'What  do  you  think  should  be  done,  sir  ?' 


94  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  The  mere  fact  of  being  asked  my  opinion  gratified 
my  vanity,  and  the  respectful  '  sir '  with  which  the 
question  concluded  caused  my  heart  to  beat  high 
with  unwonted  emotion.  It  was  the  first  time  I 
had  ever  been  addressed  gravely  as  a  man;  it  was 
a  new  sensation,  and  I  think  may  be  regarded  as  an 
era  in  my  existence. 

"  With  much  gravity  I  replied  that  ef  course  the 
wound  ought  to  be  sewed  up. 

"'Then  the  sooner  it's  done  the  better,  I  think,' 
said  the  bystander,  'for  the  poor  child  will  bleed 
to  death  if  it  is  allowed  to  go  on  like  that.' 

"  A  sudden  resolution  entered  into  my  mind.  I 
stroked  my  chin  and  frowned,  as  if  in  deep  thought, 
then,  turning  to  the  man  who  had  spoken,  said, — 
'  It  ought  certainly  to  be  done  with  as  little  delay  as 
possible  ;  I  expect  my  father  to  return  every  minute ; 
but  as  it  is  an  urgent  case,  I  will  myself  undertake  it, 
if  the  parents  of  the  child  have  no  objection.' 

"'Seems  to  me,  lad/  remarked  a  country  fellow, 
who  had  helped  to  carry  the  child  in,  '  that  it  beant 
a  time  to  talk  o'  parients  objectin'  w'en  the  cheeld's 
blood'u  to  deth.  Ye  'd  better  fa'  to  work  at  once — 
if  'ee  knows  how.' 

"I  cast  upon  this  man  a  look  of  scorn,  but  made 
no  reply.  Going  to  the  drawer  in  which  the  surgical 
instruments  were  kept,  I  took  out  those  that  suited 
my  purpose,  and  went  to  work  with  a  degree  of 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAND&.  95 

coolness  which  astonished  myself.  I  had  often  seen 
my  father  sew  up  wounds,  and  had  assisted  at  many 
an  operation  of  the  kind,  so  that,  although  altogether 
unpractised,  I  was  not  ignorant  of  the  proper  mode 
of  procedure.  The  people  looked  on  with  breath- 
less interest.  When  I  had  completed  the  operation, 
I  saw  my  father  looking  over  the  shoulders  of 
the  people  with  an  expression  of  unutterable  sur- 
prise not  unmingled  with  amusement.  I  blushed 
deeply,  and  began  some  sort  of  explanation,  which, 
however,  he  cut  short  by  observing  in  an  off-hand 
manner,  that  the  thing  had  been  done  very  well,  and 
the  child  had  better  be  carried"  into  my  bedroom  and 
left  there  to  rest  for  some  time.  He  thus  got  the 
people  out  of  the  surgery,  and  then,  when  we  we're 
alone,  told  me  that  I  was  a  born  surgeon,  that  he 
could  not  have  done  it  much  better  himself,  and,  in 
short,  praised  me  to  such  an  extent  that  I  felt  quite 
proud  of  my  performance." 

Queeker,  who  had  listened  up  to  this  point  with 
breathless  attention,  suddenly  said, — 

"  D'  you  mean  to  say  that  you  really  did  that  ?" 

"  I  do,"  replied  Stanley  with  an  amused  smile. 

" Sewed  up  a  mouth  cut  all  the  way  to  the  ear?" 

"  Yes." 

"With  a— a—" 

"  With  a  needle  and  thread,"  said  Stanley. 

Queeker's  powers  ot  utterance  were  paralysed.    He 


96  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

looked  at  the  young  doctor  with  a  species  of  awe- 
stricken  admiration.  Jealousy,  for  the  time,  was 
in  abeyance. 

"  This,  then,  was  the  beginning  of  your  love  for 
the  profession?"  said  Mr.  Durant. 

"Undoubtedly  it  was,  but  a  subsequent  event 
confirmed  me  in  my  devotion  to  it,  and  induced  me 
to  give  up  all  thoughts  of  the  sea.  The  praise  that 
I  had  received  from  my  father — who  was  not  usually 
lavish  of  complimentary  remarks — made  me  am- 
bitious to  excel  in  other  departments  of  surgery,  so 
I  fixed  upon  the  extraction  of  teeth  as  my  next  step 
in  the  profession.  My  father  had  a  pretty  large 
practice  in  that  way.  We  lived,  as  you  remember, 
in  the  midst  of  a  populous  rural  district,  and  had 
frequent  visits  from  farm  servants  and  labourers  with 
heads  tied  up  and  lugubrious  faces. 

"  I  began  to  fit  myself  for  duty  by  hammering  big 
nails  into  a  block  of  wood,  and  drawing  them  out 
again.  This  was  a  device  of  my  own,  for  I  wished 
to  give  my  father  another  surprise,  and  did  not  wish 
to  betray  what  I  was  about,  by  asking  his  advice  as 
to  how  I  should  proceed.  I  then  extracted  the  teeth 
from  the  jaw-bones  of  all  the  sheep's-heads  that  I 
could  lay  hands  on ;  after  a  good  deal  of  practice  in 
this  way,  I  tried  to  tempt  our  cook  with  an  offer  of 
five  shillings  to  let  me  extract  a  back  tooth  which 
had  caused  her  a  great  deal  of  suffering  at  intervals 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  97 

for  many  months ;  but-she  was  a  timid  woman,  and 
would  not  have  allowed  me  for  five  guineas,  I  believe, 
even  to  look  into  her  mouth.  I  also  tried  to  tempt 
our  small  stable-boy  with  a  similar  sum.  He  was 
a  plucky  little  fellow,  and,  although  there  was  not 
an  unsound  tooth  in  his  head,  agreed  to  let  me  draw 
one  of  the  smallest  of  his  back  teeth  for  seven  and 
sixpence  if  it  should  come  out  the  first  pull,  and  six- 
pence for  every  extra  rug !  I  thought  the  little 
fellow  extravagant  in  his  demands,  but,  rather  than 
lose  the  chance,  submitted.  He  sat  down  quite 
boldly  on  our  operating  chair,  but  grew  pale  when  I 
advanced  with  the  instrument;  when  I  tried  to 
open  his  mouth,  he  began  to  whimper,  and  finally, 
struggling  out  of  my  grasp,  fled.  I  afterwards  gave 
him  sixpence,  however,  for  affording  me,  as  I  told 
him,  so  much  pleasurable  anticipation. 

"  After  this  I  cast  about  for  another  subject,  but 
failed  to  procure  a  live  one.  It  occurred  to  me, 
however,  that  I  might  try  my  hand  on  two  skeletons 
that  hung  in  our  garret,  so  I  got  their  heads  off  with- 
out delay,  and  gradually  extracted  every  tooth  in 
their  jaws.  As  there  were  about  sixty  teeth,  I  think, 
in  each  pair,  I  felt  myself  much  improved  before  the 
jaws  were  toothless.  At  last,  I  resolved  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  first  opportunity  that  should  offer, 
during  my  father's  absence,  to  practise  on  the  living 
subject.  It  was  not  long  before  I  had  a  chance. 

G 


98  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  One  morning  my  father  went  out,  leaving  me  in 
the  surgery,  as  was  his  wont.  I  was  deeply  im- 
mersed in  a  book  on  anatomy,  when  I  heard  a  tre- 
mendous double  rap — as  if  made  with  the  head  of  a 
stick — at  the  outer  door,  and  immediately  after  the 
question  put  in  the  gruff  bass  voice  of  an  Irishman, 
'  Is  the  dactur  within  ?' 

"  A  tremendous  growl  of  disappointment  followed 
the  reply.  The.n,  after  a  pause,  'Is  the  assistant 
within?'  This  was  followed  by  a  heavy  tread  in 
the  passage,  and,  next  moment,  an  enormous  man,  in 
very  ragged  fustian,  with  a  bronzed  hairy  face,  and 
a  reaping-hook  under  his  arm,  stood  in  the  surgery, 
his  head  almost  touching  the  ceiling. 

"'Sure  it's  niver  the  dactur's  assistant  ye  are ?' 
he  exclaimed,  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  I  rose,  drew  myself  up,  and,  endeavouring  to 
look  very  solemn,  said  that  I  was,  and  demanded  to 
know  if  I  could  do  anything  for  him. 

"  '  Ah,  then,  it 's  a  small  assistant  ye  are,  anyhow,' 
he  remarked;  but  stopped  suddenly  and  his  huge 
countenance  was  convulsed  with  pain,  as  he  clapped 
his  hand  to  his  face,  and  uttered  a  groan,  which  was 
at  least  three  parts  composed  of  a  growl. 

"  '  Hooroo  !  whirr-r-hach  !  nrnsha,  but  it 's  like 
the  cratur  o'  Vesoovious  all  alive — o — in  me  head. 
Av  it  don't  split  up  me  jaw — there — ha — och  !' 

"  The  giant  stamped  his  foot  with  such  violence 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  99 

that  all  the  glasses,  cups,  and  vials  in  the  room  rang 
again,  and,  clapping  both  hands  over  his  mouth,  he 
bent  himself  double  in  a  paroxysm  of  agony. 

"I  felt  a  strange  mixture  of  wild  delight  and 
alarm  shoot  through  me.  The  chance  had  come  in 
my  way,  but  in  anticipating  it  I  had  somehow  always 
contemplated  operating  on  some  poor  boy  or  old 
woman.  My  thoughts  had  never  depicted  such  a 
herculean  and  rude  specimen  of  humanity.  At  first, 
he  would  not  believe  me  capable  of  extracting  a 
tooth;  but  I  spoke  with  such  cool  self-possession 
and  assurance — though  far  from  feeling  either — 
that  he  consented  to  submit  to  the  operation.  For 
the  sake  of  additional  security,  I  seated  him  on  the 
floor,  and  took  his  head  between  my  knees ;  and  I 
confess  that  when  seated  thus,  in  such  close  proxi- 
mity to  his  rugged  as  well  as  massive  head,  gazing 
into  the  cavern  filled  with  elephantine  tusks,  my 
heart  almost  failed  me.  Far  back,  in  the  darkest 
corner  of  the  cave,  I  saw  the  decayed  tooth — a  mas- 
sive lump  of  glistening  ivory,  with  a  black  pit  in 
the  middle  of  it.  Screwing  up  my  courage  to  the 
utmost,  I  applied  the  key.  The  giant  winced  at  the 
touch,  but  clasped  his  hard  hands  together — evi- 
dently prepared  for  the  worst.  I  began  to  twist 
with  right  good-will.  The  man  roared  furiously, 
and  gave  a  convulsive  heave  that  almost  upset  my- 
self and  the  big  chair,  and  disengaged  the  key ! 


100  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

" '  Oh,  come/  said  I,  remonstratively,  '  you  ought 
to  stand  it  better  than  that !  why,  the  worst  of  it  was 
almost  over/ 

" '  Was  it,  though  ? '  he  inquired  earnestly,  with  an 
upward  glance,  that  gave  to  his  countenance  in  that 
position  a  hideous  aspect.  '  Sure  it  had  need  be, 
for  the  worst  baits  all  that  iver  I  drained  of.  Go 
at  it  again,  me  boy/ 

"  Eesolving  to  make  sure  work  of  it  next  time,  I 
fixed  the  key  again,  and,  after  getting  it  pretty  tight 
— at  which  point  he  evidently  fancied  the  worst  had 
been  again  reached — I  put  forth  all  my  strength  in 
one  tremendous  twist. 

"  I  failed  for  a  moment  to  draw  the  tusk,  but  I 
drew  forth  a  prolonged  roar,  that  can  by  no  means 
be  conceived  or  described.  The  Irishman  struggled. 
I  held  on  tight  to  his  head  with  my  knees.  The 
chair  tottered  on  its  legs.  Letting  go  the  hair  of 
his  head,  I  clapped  my  left  hand  to  my  right,  and 
with  both  arms  redoubled  the  strain.  The  roar  rose 
into  a  terrible  yowl  There  was  a  crash  like  the 
rending  of  a  forest  tree.  I  dropped  the  instrument, 
sprang  up,  turned  the  chair  on  the  top  of  the  man, 
and  cramming  it  down  on  him  rushed  to  the  door, 
which  I  threw  open,  and  then  faced  about. 

"  There  was  a  huge  iron  pestle  lying  on  a  table  near 
my  hand.  Seizing  it,  I  swayed  it  gently  to  and  fro, 
ready  to  knock  him  down  with  it  if  he  should 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  101 

rush  at  me,  or  to  turn  and  fly,  as  should  seem  most 
advisable.  I  was  terribly  excited,  and  a  good  deal 
alarmed  as  to  the  possible  consequences,  but  managed 
with  much  difficulty  to  look  collected. 

"The  big  chair  was  hurled  into  a  corner  as  he 
rose  sputtering  from  the  floor,  and  holding  his  jaws 
with  both  hands. 

" '  Och !  ye  spalpeen,  is  that  the  way  ye  trait 
people  ? ' 

" '  Yes,'  I  replied  in  a  voice  of  forced  calmness, 
*  we  usually  put  a  restraint  on  strong  men  like  you, 
when  they  're  likely  to  be  violent.' 

"I  saw  the  corners  of  his  eyes  wrinkle  a  little, 
and  felt  more  confidence. 

" '  Arrah,  but  it 's  the  jawbone  ye  've  took  out,  ye 
goormacalluchscrowl ! ' 

"  '  No,  it  isn't,  it 's  only  the  tooth,'  I  replied,  going 
forward  and  picking  it  up  from  the  floor. 

"  The  amazement  of  the  man  is  not  to  be  described. 
I  gave  him  a  tumbler  of  water,  and,  pointing  to  a 
basin,  told  him  to  wash  out  his  mouth,  which  he  did, 
looking  at  me  all  the  time,  however,  and  following 
me  with  his  astonished  eyes,  as  I  moved  about  the 
room.  He  seemed  to  have  been  bereft  of  the  power 
of  speech ;  for  all  that  he  could  say  after  that  was, 
'  Och !  av  yer  small  yer  cliver ! ' 

"  On  leaving  he  asked  what  was  to  pay.  I  said 
that  I  'd  ask  nothing,  as  he  had  stood  it  so  well ;  and 


102  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

he  left  me  with  the  same  look  of  astonishment  in 
his  eyes  and  words  of  commendation  on  his  lips." 

"  Well,  that  was  a  tremendous  experience  to  begin 
with,"  said  Mr.  Durant,  laughing ;  "  and  so  it  made 
you  a  doctor  ? " 

"  It  helped.  When  my  father  came  home  I  pre- 
sented him  with  the  tooth,  and  from  that  day  to  this 
I  have  been  hard  at  work ;  but  I  feel  a  little  seedy 
just  now  from  over-study,  so  I  have  resolved  to  tiy 
to  get  a  berth  as  surgeon  on  board  a  ship  bound  for 
India,  Australia,  China,  or  South  America ;  and,  as 
you  are  a  shipowner  and  old  friend,  I  thought  it 
just  possible  you  might  be  not  onlv  willing  but  able 
to  help  me  to  what  I  want." 

"  And  you  thought  right,  Stanney,  my  boy,"  said 
the  old  gentleman  heartily ;  "  I  have  a  ship  going  to 
sail  for  India  in  a  few  weeks,  and  we  have  not  yet 
appointed  a  surgeon.  You  shall  have  that  berth  if 
it  suits  you." 

At  this  point  they  were  interrupted  by  the  en- 
trance of  a  servant  maid  with  the  announcement 
that  there  was  a  man  in  the  lobby  who  wished  to 
see  Mr.  Durant. 

"  I  '11  be  back  shortly,"  said  the  old  gentleman  to 
Stanley  as  he  rose ;  "  go  to  the  drawing-room,  girls, 
and  give  Mr.  Hall  some  music.  You  '11  find  that  my 
Katie  sings  and  plays  very  sweetly,  although  she 
won't  let  me  say  so.  Fanny  joins  her  with  a  fine 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          103 

contralto,  I  believe,  and  Queeker,  too,  he  sings— a — 
a  what  is  it,  Queeker  ? — a  bass  or  a  baritone — eh  ? " 

"Without  waiting  for  a  reply,  Mr.  Durant  left  the 
room,  and  found  Morley  Jones  standing  in  the  lobby 
hat  in  hand. 

The  old  gentleman's  expression  changed  instantly, 
and  he  said  with  much  severity — 

"  Well,  Mr.  Jones,  what  do  you  want  ? " 

Morley  begged  the  favour  of  a  private  interview  for 
a  few  minutes.  After  a  moment's  hesitation,  Mr. 
Durant  led  him  into  his  study. 

"  Another  loan,  I  suppose  ?"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, as  he  lit  the  gas. 

"I  had  expected  to  have  called  to  pay  the  last 
loan,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Jones  somewhat  boldly,  "  but 
one  can't  force  the  market.  I  have  my  sloop  down 
here  loaded  with  herrings,  and  if  I  chose  to  sell  at  a 
loss,  could  pay  my  debt  to  you  twice  over;  but 
surely  it  can  scarcely  be  expected  of  me  to  do  that. 
I  hear  there  is  a  rise  in  France  just  now,  and  mean  to 
run  over  there  with  them.  I  shall  be  sure  to  dis- 
pose of  'em  to  advantage.  On  my  return,  I  '11  pay 
your  loan  with  interest." 

Morley  Jones  paused,  and  Mr.  Durant  looked  at 
him  attentively  for  a  few  seconds. 

"  Is  this  all  you  came  to  tell  me  ?" 

"  Why,  no  sir,  not  exactly,"  replied  Jones,  a  little 
disconcerted  by  the  stern  manner  of  the  old  gentle- 


104  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

man.  "  The  sloop  is  not  quite  filled  up,  she  could 
stow  a  few  more  casks,  but  I  have  been  cleaned 
out,  and  unless  I  can  get  the  loan  of  forty  or  fifty 
pounds — " 

"  Ha !  I  thought  so.  Are  you  aware,  Mr.  Jones, 
that  your  character  for  honesty  has  of  late  been 
called  in  question  ?" 

"  I  am  aware  that  I  have  got  enemies,"  replied 
the  fish-merchant  coldly.  "  If  their  false  reports 
are  to  be  believed  to  my  disadvantage,  of  course  I 
cannot  expect — " 

"  It  is  not  my  belief  in  their  reports,"  replied  Mr. 
Durant,  "  that  creates  suspicion  in  me,  but  I  couple 
these  reports  with  the  fact  that  you  have  again  and 
again  deceived  me  in  regard  to  the  repayment  of 
the  loans  which  you  have  already  received  at  various 
times  from  me." 

"  I  can't  help  ill-luck,  sir,"  said  Morley  with  a 
downcast  look.  "  If  men's  friends  always  deserted 
them  at  the  same  time  with  fortune  there  would  be 
an  end  of  all  trade." 

"  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  other  decidedly,  "  I  tell  you 
plainly  that  you  are  presumptuous  when  you  count 
me  one  of  your  friends.  Your  deceased  brother, 
having  been  an  old  and  faithful  servant  of  mine,  was 
considered  by  me  a  friend,  and  it  is  out  of  regard  to 
his  memory  alone  that  I  have  assisted  you.  Even 
now,  I  will  lend  you  the  sum  you  ask,  but  be 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          105 

assured  it  is  the  last  you  shall  ever  get  from  me.  I 
distrust  you,  sir,  and  I  tell  you  so — flatly." 

While  he  was  speaking  the  old  gentleman  had 
opened  a  desk.  He  now  sat  down  and  wrote  out  a 
cheque,  which  he  handed  to  his  visitor,  who  received 
it  with  a  grim  smile  and  a  curt  acknowledgment, 
and  instantly  took  his  leave. 

Mr.  Durant  smoothed  the  frown  from  his  brow, 
and  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  where  Katie's 
sweet  voice  instantly  charmed  away  the  memory  of 
the  evil  spirit  that  had  just  left  him. 

The  table  was  covered  with  beautiful  pencil 
sketches  and  chalk-heads  and  water-colour  drawings 
in  various  stages  of  progression — all  of  which  were 
the  production  of  the  same  fair,  busy,  and  talented 
little  hand  that  copied  the  accounts  for  the  Board  of 
Trade,  for  love  instead  of  money,  without  a  blot,  and 
without  defrauding  of  dot  or  stroke  a  single  i  or  1 1 

Queeker  was  gazing  at  one  of  the  sketches  with- 
an  aspect  so  haggard  and  savage  that  Mr.  Durant 
could  not  refrain  from  remarking  it. 

"  Why,  Queeker,  you  seem  to  be  displeased  with 
that  drawing, .eh  ?  What 's  wrong  with  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  ah !"  exclaimed  the  youth,  starting,  and 
becoming  very  red  in  the  face — "  no,  not  with  the 
drawing,  it  is  beautiful — most  beautiful,  but  I — in 
— fact  I  was  thinking,  sir,  that  thought  sometimes 
leads  us  into  regions  of  gloom  in  which — where — • 


106  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

one  can't  see  one's  way,  and  ignesfatui  mislead  or 
—or—" 

"  Very  true,  Queeker,"  interrupted  the  old  gentle- 
man, good-liumouredly ;  "  thought  is  a  wonderful 
quality  of  the  mind — transports  us  in  a  moment 
from  the  Indies  to  the  poles;  fastens  with  equal 
facility  on  the  substantial  and  the  impalpable; 
gropes  among  the  vague  generalities  of  the  abstract, 
and  wriggles  with  ease  through  the  thick  obscurities 
of  the  concrete — eh,  Queeker?  Come,  give  us  a 
song,  like  a  good  fellow." 

"  I  never  sing — I  cannot  sing,  sir,"  said  the  youth, 
hurriedly. 

"  No  !  why,  I  thought  Katie  said  you  were  attend- 
ing the  singing- class." 

The  fat  cousin  was  observed  here  to  put  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  mouth  and  bend  convulsively  over  a 
drawing. 

Queeker  explained  that  he  had  just  begun  to 
attend,  but  had  not  yet  attained  sufficient  confidence 
to  sing  in  public.  Then,  starting  up  he  suddenly 
pulled  out  his  watch,  exclaimed  that  he  was  quite 
ashamed  of  having  remained  so  late,  shook  hands 
nervously  all  round,  and,  rushing  from,  the  house, 
left  Stanley  Hall  in  possession  of  the  field  ! 

Now,  the  poor  youth's  state  of  mind  is  not  easily 
accounted  for.  Stanley,  being  a  close  observer,  had 
at  an  early  part  of  the  evening  detected  the  cause 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          107 

of  Queeker's  jealousy,"  and,  being  a  kindly  fellow, 
sought,  by  devoting  himself  to  Fanny  Hennings, 
to  relieve  his  young  friend;  but,  strange  to  say, 
Queerer  was  not  relieved  !  This  fact  was  a  matter 
of  profound  astonishment  even  to  Queeker  himself, 
who  went  home  that  night  in  a  state  of  mind  which 
cannot  be  adequately  described,  sat  down  before  his 
desk,  and,  with  his  head  buried  in  his  hands,  thought 
intensely. 

"  Can  it  be,"  he  murmured  in  a  sepulchral  voice, 
looking  up  with  an  expression  of  horror,  "that  I 
love  them  both  ?  Impossible.  Horrible !  Perish 
the  thought — yes  (seizing  a  pen) 

Perish  the  thought 
Which  never  ought 

To  be, 
Let  not  the  thing 

(thing — wing — bing — ping — jing — ring — ling — ting 
— cling — dear  me,  what  a  quantity  of  words  with 
little  or  no  meaning  there  are  in  the  English 
language  ! — what  will  rhyme  with — ah  !  I  have  it— 
sting—) 

Let  not  the  thing 
Reveal  its  sting 
To  me  ! " 

Having  penned  these  lines,  Queeker  heaved  a 
deep  sigh — cast  one  long  lingering  gaze  on  the  moon, 
and  went  to  bed. 


108  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

THE  SLOOP  NORA— MB.  JONES  BECOMES  COMMUNICATIVE,  AND  BILLY 
TOWLER,  FOB  THE  FIRST  TIME  IN  HIS  LIFE,  THOUGHTFUL. 

• 

A  DEAD  calm,  with  a  soft,  golden,  half-transparent 
mist,  had  settled  down  on  Old  Father  Thames, 
when,  early  one  morning,  the  sloop  Nora  floated 
rather  than  sailed  towards  the  mouth  of  that  cele- 
brated river,  bent,  in  the  absence  of  wind,  on  creep- 
ing out  to  sea  with  the  tide. 

Jim  Welton  stood  at  the  helm,  which,  in  the 
circumstances,  required  only  attention  from  one  of 
his  legs,  so  that  his  hands  rested  idly  in  his  coat 
pockets.  Moiiey  Jones  stood  beside  him. 

"  So  you  managed  the  insurance,  did  you  ?"  said 
Jim  in  a  careless  way,  as  though  he  put  the  question 
more  for  the  sake  of  saying  something  than  for  any 
interest  he  had  in  the  matter. 

Mr.  Jones,  whose  eyes  and  manner  betrayed  the 
fact  that  even  at  that  early  hour  he  had  made 
application  to  the  demon- spirit  which  led  him  cap- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          109 

tive  at  its  will,  looked  suspiciously  at  his  questioner, 
and  replied, — 

"  Well,  yes,  I  've  managed  it." 

"  For  how  much  ?"  inquired  Jim. 

«  For  £300." 

Jim  looked  surprised.  "  D'  ye  think  the  herring 
are  worth  that  ?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  they  ain't,  but  there 's  some  general  cargo 
besides  as  11  make  it  up  to  that,  includin'  the  value 
o'  the  sloop,  which  I  Ve  put  down  at  £100.  More- 
over, Jim,  I  have  named  you  as  the  skipper.  They 
required  his  name,  d'  ye  see,  and  as  I  'm  not  exactly 
a  seafarin'  man  myself,  an'  wanted  to  appear  only 
as  the  owner,  I  named  you." 

"  But  that  was  wrong,"  said  Jim,  "  for  I  'm  not  the 
master." 

"  Yes,  you  are,"  replied  Morley,  with  a  laugh.  "  I 
make  you  master  now.  So,  pray,  Captain  Welton, 
attend  to  your  duty,  and  be  civil  to  your  employer. 
There 's  a  breeze  coming  that  will  send  you  foul  o' 
the  Maplin  light  if  you  don't  look  out." 

"What's  the  name  o'  the  passenger  that  came 
aboard  at  Gravesend,  and  what  makes  him  take  a 
fancy  to  such  a  craft  as  this  ?"  inquired  Jim. 

"  I  can  answer  these  questions  for  myself,"  said 
the  passenger  referred  to,  who  happened  at  that 
moment  to  come  on  deck.  "  My  name  is  Stanley 
Hall,  and  I  have  taken  a  fancy  to  the  Nora  chiefly 


110  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

because  she  somewhat  resembles  in  size  and  rig  a 
yacht  which  belonged  to  my  father,  and  in  which  I 
have  had  many  a  pleasant  cruise.  I  am  fond  of  the 
sea,  and  prefer  going  to  Ramsgate  in  this  way  rather 
than  by  rail  I  suppose  you  will  approve  my  pre- 
ference of  the  sea  ?"  he  added,  with  a  smile. 

a  I  do,  indeed,"  responded  Jim.  "  The  sea  is  my 
native  element.  I  could  swim  in  it  as  soon  a'most 
as  I  could  walk,  and  I  believe  that — one  way  or 
other,  in  or  on  it — I  have  had  more  to  do  with  it 
than  with  the  land." 

"  You  are  a  good  swimmer,  then,  I  doubt  not  ?" 
said  Stanley. 

"  Pretty  fair,"  replied  Jim,  modestly. 

"  Pretty  fair !"  echoed  Morley  Jones,  "  why,  he 's 
the  best  swimmer,  1 11  be  bound,  in  Norfolk — ay,  if 
he  were  brought  to  the  test  I  do  blieve  he  'd  turn 
out  to  be  the  best  in  the  kingdom." 

On  the  strength  of  this  subject  the  two  young 
men  struck  up  an  acquaintance,  which,  before  they 
had  been  long  together  ripened  into  what  might 
almost  be  styled  a  friendship.  They  had  many 
sympathies  in  common.  Both  were  athletic ;  both 
were  mentally  as  well  as  physically  active,  and, 
although  Stanley  Hall  had  the  inestimable  advan- 
tage of  a  liberal  education,  Jim  Welton  possessed 
a  naturally  powerful  intellect,  with  a  capacity  for 
turning  every  scrap  of  knowledge  to  good  use. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAXDS.          Ill 

Their  conversation  was  at  that  time,  however,  cnt 
short  by  the  springing  up  of  a  breeze,  which  rendered 
it  necessary  that  the  closest  attention  should  be  paid 
to  the  management  of  the  vessel  among  the  numerous 
shoals  which  rendered  the  navigation  there  somewhat 
difficult 

It  may  be  that  many  thousands  of  those  who 
annually  leave  London  on  voyages,  short  and  long — 
of  profit  and  pleasure — have  very  little  idea  of  the 
intricacy  of  the  channels  through  which  they  pass, 
and  the  number  of  obstructions  which,  in  the  shape 
of  sandbanks,  intersect  the  mouth  of  the  Thames  at 
its  junction  with  the  ocean.  Without  pilots,  and  an 
elaborate  well-considered  system  of  lights,  buoys,  and 
beacons,  a  vessel  would  be  about  as  likely  to  reach 
London  from  the  ocean,  or  rice  versa,  in  safety,  as  a 
man  who  should  attempt  to  run  through  an  old 
timber-yard  blindfold  would  be  to  escape  with  un- 
broken neck  and  shins.  Of  shoals  there  are  the  East 
and  West  Barrows,  the  Nob,  the  Knock,  the  John, 
the  Sunk,  the  Girdler,  and  the  Long  sands,  all  lying 
like  so  many  ground-sharks,  quiet,  unobtrusive,  but 
very  deadly,  waiting  for  ships  to  devour,  and  getting 
them  too,  very  frequently,  despite  the  precautions 
taken  to  rob  them  of  their  costly  food. 

These  sand-sharks  (if  we  may  be  allowed  the 
expression)  separate  the  main  channels,  which  are 
named  respectively  the  Swin  or  King's  channel,  on 


112  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  north,  and  the  Prince's,  the  Queen's,  and  the 
South  channels,  on  the  south.  The  channel  through 
•which  the  Nora  passed  was  the  Swin,  which,  though 
not  used  by  first-class  ships,  is  perhaps  the  most 
frequented  by  the  greater  portion  of  the  coasting 
and  colliery  vessels,  and  all  the  east  country  craft. 
The  traffic  is  so  great  as  to  be  almost  continuous ; 
innumerable  vessels  being  seen  in  fine  weather  pass- 
ing to  and  fro  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  To  mark 
this  channel  alone  there  was,  at  the  time  we  write 
of,  the  Mouse  light -vessel,  at  the  western  extremity 
of  the  Mouse  sand ;  the  Maplin  lighthouse,  on  the 
sand  of  the  same  name;  the  Swin  middle  light- 
vessel,  at  the  western  extremity  of  the  Middle  and 
Heaps  sand ;  the  Whittaker  beacon,  and  the  Sunk 
light- vessel  on  the  Sunk  sand — besides  other  beacons 
and  numerous  buoys.  When  we  add  that  floating 
lights  and  beacons  cost  thousands  and  hundreds  of 
pounds  to  build,  and  that  even  buoys  are  valued  in 
many  cases  at  more  than  a  hundred  pounds  each, 
besides  the  cost  of  maintenance,  it  may  be  conceived 
that  ttie  great  work  of  lighting  and  buoying  the 
channels  of  the  kingdom — apart  from  the  light-house 
system  altogether — is  one  of  considerable  expense, 
constant  anxiety,  and  vast  national  importance.  It 
may  also  be  conceived  that  the  Elder  Brethren  of 
the  Corporation  of  Trinity  House — by  whom,  from 
the  time  of  Henry  vm.  down  to  the  present  day, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         113 

that  arduous  duty  has  been  admirably  performed — 
hold  a  position  of  the  highest  responsibility. 

It  is  not  our  intention,  however,  to  trouble  the 
reader  with  further  remarks  on  this  subject  at  this 
point  in  our  tale.  In  a  future  chapter  we  shall  add 
a  few  facts  regarding  the  Trinity  Corporation,  which 
will  doubtless  prove  interesting ;  meanwhile  we  have 
said  sufficient  to  show  that  there  was  good  reason 
for  Jim  Welton  to  hold  his  tongue  and  mind  his 
helm. 

When  the  dangerous  navigation  was  past,  Mr. 
Jones  took  Billy  Towler  apart,  and,  sitting  down 
near  the  weather  gangway,  entered  into  a  private  and 
confidential  talk  with  that  sprightly  youngster. 

"Billy,  my  boy,"  he  said,  with  a  leer  that  was 
meant  to  be  at  once  amiable  and  patronizing,  "  you 
and  I  suit  each  other  very  well,  don't  we  ? " 

Billy,  who  had  been  uncommonly  well  treated  by 
his  new  master,  thrust  his  hands  into  the  waistband 
of  his  trousers,  and,  putting  his  head  meditatively  on 
one  side,  said  in  a  low  voice, — 

"  H'm — well,  yes,  you  suit  me  pretty  well." 

The  respectable  fish-curer  chuckled,  and  patted 
his  protege'  on  the  back.  After  which  he  proceeded 
to  discuss,  or  rather  to  detail,  some  matters  which, 
had  he  been  less  affected  by  the  contents  of  Square- 
Tom,  he  might  have  hesitated  to  touch  upon. 

"  Yes,"  he   said,   "  you  '11  do  very  well,   Billy 
H 


114  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

You  're  a  good  boy  and  a  sharp  one,  which,  you  see, 
is  exactly  what  I  need.  There  are  a  lot  o'  small 
matters  that  I  want  you  to  do  for  me,  and  that 
couldn't  be  very  well  done  by  anybody  else ;  'cause, 
d'ye  see,  there  ain't  many  lads  o'  your  age  who 
unite  so  many  good  qualities." 

"  Very  true,"  remarked  Billy,  gravely  nodding  his 
head — which,  by  the  way,  was  now  decorated  with 
a  small  straw  hat  and  blue  ribbon,  as  was  his  little 
body  with  a  blue  Guernsey  shirt,  and  his  small  legs 
with  white  duck  trousers  of  approved  sailor  cut. 

"  Now,  among  other  things,"  resumed  Morley,  "  I 
want  you  to  learn  some  lessons." 

Billy  shook  his  head  with  much  decision. 

"  That  won't  go  down,  Mister  Jones.  I  don't  mean 
for  to  larn  no  more  lessons.  I've  'ad  more  than 
enough  o'  that.  Fact  is  I  consider  myself  edicated 
raither  'igher  than  usual.  Can't  I  read  and  write,  and 
do  a  bit  o'  cypherin'  ?  Moreover,  I  knows  that  the 
world  goes  round  the  sun,  w'ich  is  contrairy  to  the 
notions  o'  the  haincients,  wot  wos  rediklous  enough 
to  suppose  that  the  sun  went  round  the  world.  Anil 
don't  I  know  that  the  earth  is  like  a  orange,  flat- 
tened at  the  poles  ?  though  I  don't  b'lieve  there  is 
no  poles,  an'  don't  care  a  button  if  there  was.  That 's 
enough  o'  jogrify  for  my  money ;  w'eu  I  wants  more 
I  '11  ax  for  it" 

"  But  it  ain't  that  sort  o'  lesson  I  mean,  Billy," 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         115 

said  Mr.  Jones,  \vho  was  somewhat  amused  at  the 
indignant  tone  in  which  all  this  was  said.  "The 
lesson  I  want  you  to  learn  is  this :  I  want  you  to 
git  off  by  heart  what  you  and  I  are  doin',  an'  going 
to  do,  so  that  if  you  should  ever  come  to  be  ques- 
tioned about  it  at  different  times  by  different  people, 
you  might  always  give  'em  the  same  intelligent 
answer, — d'  ye  understand  ? " 

"  Whew ! "  whistled  the  boy,  opening  his  eyes 
and  showing  his  teeth;  "beaks  an'  maginstrates, 
eh?" 

"  Just  so.  And  remember,  my  boy,  that  you  and 
I  have  been  doin'  one  or  two  things  together  of  late 
that  makes  it  best  for  both  of  us  to  be  very  affec- 
tionate to,  and  careful  about,  each  other.  D'  ye  un- 
derstand that  ? " 

Billy  Towler  pursed  his  little  red  lips  as  he  nodded 
his  small  head  and  winked  one  of  his  large  blue  eyes. 
A  slight  deepening  of  the  red  on  his  cheeks  told 
eloquently  enough  that  he  did  understand  that 

The  tempter  had  gone  a  long  way  in  his  course  by 
that  time.  So  many  of  the  folds  of  the  thin  net  had 
been  thrown  over  the  little  thoughtless  victim,  that, 
light-hearted  and  defiant  though  he  was  by  nature, 
he  had  begun  to  experience  a  sense  of  restraint 
which  was  quite  new  to  him. 

"  Now,  Billy,"  continued  Jones,  "  let  me  tell  you 
that  our  prospects  are  pretty  bright  just  now.  I 


116  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

have  effected  an  insurance  on  my  sloop  and  cargo 
for  £300,  which  means  that  I  've  been  to  a  certain 
great  city  that  you  and  I  know  of,  and  paid  into  a 
company — we  shall  call  it  the  Submarine  Insurance 
Company — a  small  sum  for  a  bit  of  paper,  which 
they  call  a  policy,  by  which  they  bind  themselves 
to  pay  me  £300  if  I  should  lose  my  ship  and  cargo. 
You  see,  my  lad,  the  risks  of  the  sea  are  very  great, 
and  there 's  no  knowing  what  may  happen  between 
this  and  the  coast  of  France,  to  which  we  are  bound 
after  touching  at  Eamsgate.  D'ye  understand  ?" 

Billy  shook  his  head,  and  with  an  air  of  per- 
plexity said  that  he  "  wasn't  quite  up  to  that  dodge 
— didn't  exactly  see  through  it." 

"  Supposing"  said  he,  "  you  does  lose  the  sloop 
an'  cargo,  why,  wot  then  ? — the  sloop  an'  cargo  cost 
somethin',  I  dessay  ?" 

"  Ah,  Billy,  you  're  a  smart  boy — a  knowing  young 
rascal,"  replied  Mr.  Jones,  nodding  approval ;  "  of 
course  they  cost  something,  but  therein  lies  the 
advantage.  The  whole  affair,  sloop  an'  cargo,  ain't 
worth  more  than  a  few  pounds  ;  so,  if  I  throw  it  all 
away,  it  will  be  only  losing  a  few  pounds  for  the 
sake  of  gaining  three  hundred.  What  think  you 
of  that,  lad?" 

"  I  think  the  Submarine  Insurance  Company 
must  be  oncomrnon  green  to  be  took  in  so  easy," 
replied  the  youngster  with  a  knowing  smile. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  117 

"  They  ain't  exactly-  green  either,  boy,  but  they 
know  that  if  they  made  much  fuss  and  bother  about 
insuring  they  would  soon  lose  their  customers,  so 
they  often  run  the  risk  of  a  knowin'  fellow  like  me, 
and  take  the  loss  rather  than  scare  people  away. 
You  know,  if  a  grocer  was  in  the  habit  of  carefully 
weighing  and  testing  with  acid  every  sovereign  he 
got  before  he  would  sell  a  trifle  over  the  counter, 
— if  he  called  every  note  in  question,  and  sent  up 
to  the  bank  to  see  whether  it  wasn't  a  forgery,  why, 
his  honest  customers  wouldn't  be  able  to  stand  it. 
They  'd  give  him  up.  So  he.  just  gives  the  sovereign 
a  ring  and  the  note  a  glance  an'  takes  his  chance. 
So  it  is  in  some  respects  with  insurance  companies. 
They  look  at  the  man  and  the  papers,  see  that  all 's 
right,  as  well  as  they  can,  and  hope  for  the  best. 
That 's  how  it  is." 

"  Ha !  they  must  be  jolly  companies  to  have  to 
do  with.  I  'd  like  to  transact  some  business  with 
them  submarines,"  said  the  boy,  gravely. 

"  And  so  you  shall,  my  lad,  so  you  shall,"  cried 
Mr.  Jones  with  a  laugh ;  "  all  in  good  time.  Well, 
as  I  was  saying,  the  cargo  ain't  worth  much ;  it 
don't  extend  down  to  the  keel,  Billy,  by  no  means  ; 
and  as  for  the  sloop — she 's  not  worth  a  rope's-end. 
She 's  as  rotten  as  an  old  coffin.  It 's  all  I  've  been 
able  to  do  to  make  her  old  timbers  hold  together 
for  this  voyage." 


118  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Billy  Towler  opened  his  eyes  very  wide  at  this, 
and  felt  slightly  uncomfortable. 

"  If  she  goes  down  in  mid- channel,"  said  he,  "  it 
strikes  me  that  the  submarines  will  get  the  best  of 
it,  'cause  it  don't  seem  to  me  that  you  're  able  to 
swim  eight  or  ten  miles  at  a  stretch." 

"We  have  a  boat,  Billy,  we  have  a  boat,  my 
smart  boy." 

Mr.  Jones  accompanied  this  remark  with  a  wink 
and  a  slight  poke  with  his  thumb  in  the  smart  boy's 
side,  which,  however,  did  not  seem  to  have  the  effect 
of  reassuring  Billy,  for  he  continued  to  raise  various 
objections,  such  as  the  improbability  of  the  sloop 
giving  them  time  to  get  into  a  boat  when  she  took 
it  into  her  head  to  go  down,  and  the  likelihood  of 
their  reaching  the  land  in  the  event  of  such  a  dis- 
aster occurring  during  a  gale  or  even  a  stiff  breeze. 
To  all  of  which  Mr.  Jones  replied  that  he  might 
make  his  mind  easy,  because  he  (Jones)  knew  well 
what  he  was  about,  and  would  manage  the  thing 
cleverly. 

"  Now,  Billy,  here 's  the  lesson  that  you  Ve  got  to 
learn.  Besides  remembering  everything  that  I  have 
told  you,  and  only  answering  questions  in  the  way 
that  I  have  partly  explained,  and  will  explain  more 
fully  at  another  time,  you  will  take  particular  note 
that  we  left  the  Thames  to-day  all  right  with  a  full 
cargo — Jim  Welton  beiii'  master,  and  one  passenger 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          119 

X 

bein'  aboard,  whom  we  agreed  to  put  ashore  at 
Eamsgate.  That  you  heard  me  say  the  vessel  and 
cargo  were  insured  for  £300,  but  were  worth  more, 
and  that  I  said  I  hoped  to  make  a  quick  voyage 
over  and  back.  Besides  all  this,  Billy,  boy,  you  11 
keep  a  sharp  look-out,  and  won't  be  surprised  if  I 
should  teach  you  to  steer,  and  get  the  others  on 
board  to  go  below.  If  you  should  observe  me  do 
anything  while  you  are  steering,  or  should  hear  any 
noises,  you  '11  be  so  busy  with  the  tiller  and  the 
compass  that  you  '11  forget  all  about  that,  and  never 
be  able  to  answer  any  questions  about  such  things 
at  all  Have  I  made  all  that  quite  plain  to  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  captain ;  hall  right." 

Billy  had  taken  to  styling  his  new  employer  cap- 
tain, and  Mr.  Jones  did  not  object. 

"  Well,  go  for'ard  and  take  a  nap.  I  shall  want 
you  to-night  perhaps ;  it  may  be  not  till  to-morrow 
night." 

The  small  boy  went  forward,  as  he  was  bid,  and, 
leaning  over  the  bulwark  of  the  Nora,  watched  for  a 
long  time  the  rippling  foam  that  curled  from  her 
bows  and  slid  quietly  along  her  black  hull,  but 
Billy's  thoughts  were  not,  like  his  eyes,  fixed  upon 
the  foam.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  perhaps, 
the  foundling  outcast  began  to  feel  that  he  was 
running  in  a  dangerous  road,  and  entertained  some 
misgivings  that  he  was  an  uncommonly  wild,  if  not 


120  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

wicked,  fellow.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  his 
perceptions  on  this  subject  were  very  clear,  or  his 
meditations  unusually  profound,  but  it  is  certain 
that,  during  the  short  period  of  his  residence  in  the 
school  of  which  mention  has  been  made,  his  con- 
science had  been  awakened  and  partially  enlightened, 
so  that  his  precociously  quick  intelligence  enabled 
him  to  arrive  at  a  more  just  apprehension  of  his 
condition  than  might  have  been  expected, — consider- 
ing his  years  and  early  training. 

We  do  not  say  that  Billy's  heart  smote  him. 
That  little  organ  was  susceptible  only  of  impressions 
of  jollity  and  mischief.  In  other  respects — never 
having  been  appealed  to  by  love — it  was  as  hard  as 
a  small  millstone.  But  the  poor  boy's  anxieties 
were  aroused,  and  the  new  sensation  appeared  to  add 
a  dozen  years  to  his  life.  Up  to  this  time  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  estimate  his  wickednesses  by  the 
number  of  days,  weeks,  or  months  of  incarceration 
that  they  involved — "  a  wipe,"  he  would  say,  "  was 
so  many  weeks,"  a  "  silver  sneezing-box,"  or  a  "  gold 
ticker,"  in  certain  circumstances,  so  many  more; 
while  a  "  crack,"  i.e.,  a  burglary  (to  which,  by  the 
way,  he  had  only  aspired  as  yet)  might  cost  some- 
thing like  a  trip  over  the  sea  at  the  Queen's  expense ; 
but  it  had  never  entered  into  the  head  of  the  small 
transgressor  of  the  law  to  meditate  such  an  awful 
deed  as  the  sinking  of  a  ship,  involving  as  it  did  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          121 

possibility  of  murder  and  suicide,  or  hanging  if  he 
should  escape  the  latter  contingency. 

Moreover,  he  now  began  to  realize  more  clearly 
the  fact  that  he  had  cast  in  his  lot  with  a  desperate 
man,  who  would  stick  at  nothing,  and  from  whose 
clutches  he  felt  assured  that  it  would  be  no  easy 
matter  to  escape.  He  resolved,  however,  to  make 
the  attempt  the  first  favourable  opportunity  that 
should  offer ;  and  while  the  resolve  was  forming  in 
his  small  brain  his  little  brows  frowned  sternly  at 
the  foam  on  the  Nora's  cutwater.  When  the  resolve 
was  fairly  formed,  fixed,  and  disposed  of,  Billy's 
brow  cleared,  and  his  heart  rose  superior  to  its  cares. 
He  turned  gaily  round.  Observing  that  the  sea- 
man, who  with  himself  and  Jim  Welton  composed 
the  crew  of  the  sloop,  was  sitting  on  the  heel  of  the 
bowsprit  half  asleep,  he  knocked  his  cap  off,  dived 
down  the  fore-hatch  with  a  merry  laugh,  flung  him- 
self into  his  berth,  and  instantly  fell  asleep,  to 
dream  of  the  dearest  joys  that  had  as  yet  crossed 
his  earthly  path — namely,  his  wayward  wanderings, 
on  long  summer  days,  among  the  sunny  fields  and 
hedgerows  of  Hampstead,  Kensington,  Finehley,  and 
other  suburbs  of  London. 


122  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   IX. 

«. 

MR.  JONES  TAKES  STRONG  MEASURES  TO  SECURE  HIS  ENDS,  AND  INTRO- 
DUCES BILLY  AND  HIS  FRIENDS  TO  SOME  NEW  SCENES  AND  INCIDENTS. 

AGAIN  we  are  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Good- 
win sands.  It  is  evening.  The  sun  has  just  gone 
down.  The  air  and  sea  are  perfectly  still.  The 
stars  are  coming  out  one  by  one,  and  the  floating 
lights  have  already  hoisted  their  never-failing  signals. 

The  Nora  lies  becalmed  not  far  from  the  Goodwin 
buoy,  with  her  sails  hanging  idly  on  the  yards. 
Bill  Towler  stands  at  the  helm  with  all  the  aspect 
and  importance  of  a  steersman,  but  without  any 
other  duty  to  perform  than  the  tiller  could  have 
performed  for  itself.  Morley  Jones  stands  beside 
him  with  his  hands  in  his  coat  pockets,  and  Stanley 
Hall  sits  on  the  cabin  skylight  gazing  with  interest 
at  the  innumerable  lights  of  the  shipping  in  the 
roadstead,  and  the  more  distant  houses  on  shore. 
Jim  Welton,  having  been  told  that  he  will  have  to 
keep  watch  all  night,  is  down  below  taking  a  nap, 
and  Grundy,  having  been  ordered  below  to  attend  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          123 

some  trifling  duty  in  the  fore  part  of  the  vessel,  is 
also  indulging  in  slumber. 

Long  and  earnestly  and  anxiously  had  Morley 
Jones  watched  for  an  opportunity  to  carry  his  plans 
into  execution,  but  as  yet  without  success.  Either 
circumstances  were  against  him,  or  his  heart  had 
failed  him  at  the  push.  He  walked  up  and  down 
the  deck  with  uncertain  steps,  sat  down  and  rose  up 
frequently,  and  growled  a  good  deal — all  of  which 
symptoms  were  put  down  by  Stanley  to  the  fact 
that  there  was  no  wind. 

At  last  Morley  stopped  in  front  of  his  passenger 
and  said  to  him, — 

"  I  really  think  you  'd  better  go  below  and  have  a 
nap,  Mr.  Hall.  It's  quite  clear  that  we  are  not 
goin'  to  have  a  breeze  till  night,  and  it  may  be  early 
morning  when  we  call  you  to  go  ashore ;  so,  if  you 
want  to  be  fit  for  much  work  to-morrow,  you'd 
better  sleep  while  you  may." 

"  Thank  you,  I  don't  require  much  sleep,"  replied 
Stanley ;  "  in  fact,  I  can  easily  do  without  rest  at 
any  time  for  a  single  night,  and  be  quite  able  for 
work  next  day.  Besides,  I  have  no  particular  work 
to  do  to-morrow,  and  I  delight  to  sit  at  this  time  of 
the  night  and  watch  the  shipping.  I  'in  not  in  your 
way,  am  I  ?" 

"Oh,  not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  replied  the  fish- 
merchant,  as  he  resumed  his  irregular  walk. 


124  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

This  question  was  prompted  by  the  urgency  with 
which  the  advice  to  go  below  had  been  given. 

Seeing  that  nothing  was  to  be  made  of  his  pas- 
senger in  this  way,  Morley  Jones  cast  about  in  his 
mind  to  hit  upon  another  expedient  to  get  rid  of 
him,  and  reproached  himself  for  having  been  tempted 
by  a  good  fare  to  let  him  have  a  passage. 

Suddenly  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a  dark  object 
floating  in  the  sea  a  considerable  distance  to  the 
southward  of  them. 

"  That 's  lucky,"  muttered  Jones,  after  examining 
it  carefully  with  the  glass,  while  a  gleam  of  satisfac- 
tion shot  across  his  dark  countenance ;  "  could  not 
have  come  in  better  time.  Nothing  could  be 
better." 

Shutting  up  the  glass  with  decision,  he  turned 
round,  and  the  look  of  satisfaction  gave  place  to  one 
of  impatience  as  his  eye  fell  on  Stanley  Hall,  who 
still  sat  with  folded  arms  on  the  skylight,  looking 
as  composed  and  serene  as  if  he  had  taken  up  his 
quarters  there  for  the  night.  After  one  or  two 
hasty  turns  on  the  deck,  an  idea  appeared  to  hit  Mr. 
Jones,  for  he  smiled  in  a  grim  fashion,  and  muttered, 
"  1 11  try  that,  if  the  breeze  would  only  come." 

The  breeze  appeared  to  have  been  waiting  for  an 
invitation,  for  one  or  two  "cat's-paws"  ruffled  the 
surface  of  the  sea  as  he  spoke. 

"  Mind  your  helm,  boy,"  said  Mr.  Jones  suddenly ; 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         125 

"  let  her  away  a  point ,-  so,  steady.  Keep  her  as  she 
goes  ;  and,  harkee  "  (he  stooped  down  and  whispered), 
"  when  I  open  the  skylight  do  you  call  down,  '  breeze 
freshening  sir,  and  has  shifted  a  point  to  the 
west'ard.' " 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Hall,"  said  Jones,  turning 
abruptly  to  his  passenger,  "  you  take  so  much  interest 
in  navigation  that  I  should  like  to  show  you  a  new 
chart  I  Ve  got  of  the  channels  on  this  part  of  the 
coast.  Will  you  step  below  V 

"  With  pleasure,"  replied  Stanley,  rising  and  fol- 
lowing Jones,  who  immediately  spread  out  on  the 
cabin  table  one  of  his  most  intricate  charts, — which, 
as  he  had  expected,  the  young  student  began  to 
examine  with  much  interest, — at  the  £ame  time 
plying  the  other  with  numerous  questions. 

"  Stay,"  said  Jones,  "  I  '11  open  the  skylight — don't 
you  find  the  cabin  close  ?" 

No  sooner  was  the  skylight  opened  than  the  small 
voice  of  Billy  Towler  was  heard  shouting, — 

"  Breeze  freshening  sir,  and  has  shifted  a  pint  to 
the  west'ard." 

"  All  right,"  replied  Jones  ; — "  excuse  me,  sir,  1 11 
take  a  look  at  the  sheets  and  braces  and  see  that  all 's 
fast — be  back  in  a  few  minutes." 

He  went  on  deck,  leaving  Stanley  busy  with  the 
chart. 

"  You  're  a  smart  boy,  Billy.     Now  do  as  I  tell 


126  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

'ee,  and  keep  your  weather  eye  open.  D'  ye  see  that 
bit  o'  floating  wreck  a-head  ?  Well,  keep  straight 
for  that  and  run  right  against  it.  I  '11  trust  to  'ee, 
boy,  that  ye  don't  miss  it." 

Billy  said  that  he  would  be  careful,  But  resolved 
in  his  heart  that  he  would  miss  it ! 

Jones  then  went  aft  to  a  locker  near  the  stern, 
whence  he  returned  with  a  mallet  and  chisel,  and 
went  below.  Immediately  thereafter  Billy  heard 
the  regular  though  slight  blows  of  the  mallet,  and 
pursed  his  red  lips  and  screwed  up  his  small  visage 
into  a  complicated  sign  of  intelligence. 

There  was  very  little  wind,  and  the  sloop  made 
slow  progress  towards  the  piece  of  wreck  although 
it  was  very  near,  and  Billy  steered  as  far  from  it  as 
he  could  without  absolutely  altering  the  course. 

Presently  Jones  returned  on  deck  and  replaced  the 
mallet  and  chisel  in  the  locker.  He  was  very  warm 
and  wiped  the  perspiration  frequently  from  his  fore- 
head. Observing  that  the  sloop  was  not  so  near  the 
wreck  as  he  had  expected,  he  suddenly  seized  the 
small  steersman  by  the  neck  and  shook  him  as  a 
terrier  dog  shakes  a  rat. 

"  Billy,"  said  he,  quickly,  in  a  low  but  stern  voice, 
"  it 's  of  no  use.  I  see  what  you  are  up  to.  Your 
steerin'  clear  o'  that  won't  prevent  this  sloop  from 
bein'  at  the  bottom  in  quarter  of  an  hour,  if  not 
sooner !  If  you  hit  it  you  may  save  yourself  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          127 

i 

me  a  world  of  trouble."  It 's  so  mucji  for  your  own 
interest,  boy,  to  hit  that  bit  of  wreck,  that  I  'II  trust 
you  again" 

So  saying,  Jones  went  down  into  the  cabin,  apolo- 
gized for  having  kept  Stanley  waiting  so  long,  said 
that  he  could  not  leave  the  boy  at  the  helm  alone 
for  mote  than  a  few  minutes  at  a  time,  and  that  he 
would  have  to  return  on  deck  immediately  after  he 
had  made  an  entry  on  the  log  slate. 

Had  any  one  watched  Morley  Jones  while  he  was 
making  that  entry  on  the  log  slate,  he  would  have 
perceived  that  the  strong  man's  hand  trembled  ex- 
cessively, that  perspiration  stood  in  beads  upon  his 
brow,  and -that  the  entry  itself  consisted  of  a  number 
of  unmeaning  and  wavering  strokes. 

Meanwhile  Billy  Towler,  left  in  sole  possession  of 
the  sloop,  felt  himself  in  a  most  unenviable  state  of 
mind.  He  knew  that  the  crisis  had  arrived,  and  the 
decisive  tone  of  his  tyrant's  last  remark  convinced 
him  that  it  would  be  expedient  for  himself  to  obey 
orders.  On  the  other  hand,  he  remembered  that  he 
had  deliberately  resolved  to  throw  off  his  allegiance, 
and  as  he  drew  near  the  piece  of  wreck,  he  reflected 
that  he  was  at  that  moment  assisting  in  an  act  which 
might  cost  the  lives  of  all  on  board. 

Driven  to  and  fro  between  doubts  and  fears,  the 
poor  boy  kept  changing  the  course  of  the  sloop  in  a 
way  that  would  have  soon  rendered  the  hitting  of 


128  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  wreck  an  impossibility,  when  a  sudden  and 
rather  sharp  puff  of  wind  caused  the  Nora  to  bend 
over,  and  the  foain  to  curl  on  her  bow  as  she  slipped 
swiftly  through  the  water.  Billy  decided  at  that 
moment  to  miss  the  wreck  when  he  was  close  upon 
it,  and  for  that  purpose  deliberately  and  smartly  put 
the  helm  hard  a-starboard. 

Poor  fellow,  his  seamanship  was  not  equal  to  his 
courage  !  So  badly  did  he  steer,  that  the  very  act 
which  was  meant  to  carry  him  past  the  wreck,  thrust 
him  right  upon  it ! 

The  shock,  although  a  comparatively  slight  one, 
was  sufficiently  severe  to  arouse  the  sleepers,  to  whom 
the  unwonted  sensation  and  sound  carried  the  idea 
of  sudden  disaster.  Jim  and  Grundy  rushed  on 
deck,  where  they  found  Morley  Jones  already  on  the 
bulwarks  with  a  boat-hook,  shouting  for  aid,  while 
Stanley  Hall  assisted  him  with  an  oar  to  push  the 
sloop  off  what  appeared  to  be  the  topmast  and  cross- 
trees  of  a  vessel,  with  which  she  was  entangled. 

Jim  and  Grundy  each  seized  an  oar,  and,  exerting 
their  strength,  they  were  soon  clear  of  the  wreck. 

"  Well,"  observed  Jim,  wiping  his  brow  with  the 
sleeve  of  his  coat,  "  it 's  lucky  it  was  but  a  light  top- 
mast and  a  light  breeze,  it  can't  have  done  us  any 
damage  worth  speaking  of." 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  Jones.  "  There  are 
often  iron  bolts  and  sharp  points  about  such  wreck- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  129 

age  that  don't  require  much  force  to  drive  'em  through 
a  ship's  bottom.  Take  a  look  into  the  hold,  Jim,  and 
see  that  all 's  right." 

Jim  descended  into  the  hold,  but  immediately  re- 
turned, exclaiming  wildly, — 

"  Why,  the  sloop 's  sinkin' !  Lend  a  hand  here  if 
you  don't  want  to  go  down  with  her,"  he  cried,  leap- 
ing towards  the  boat. 

Stanley  Hall  and  Grundy  at  onoe  lent  a  hand  to 
get  out  the  boat,  while  the  fish-merchant,  uttering  a 
wild  oath,  jumped  into  the  hold  as  if  to  convince  him- 
self of  the  truth  of  Jim's  statement.  He  returned 
quickly,  exclaiming, — 

"  She  must  have  started  a  plank.  It 's  rushing  in 
like  a  sluice.  Look  alive,  lads ;  out  with  her  !" 

The  boat  was  shoved  outside  the  bulwarks,  and 
let  go  by  the  run ;  the  oars  were  flung  hastily  in, 
and  all  jumped  into  her  as  quickly  as  possible,  for 
the  deck  of  the  Nora  was  already  nearly  on  a  level 
with  the  water.  They  were  not  a  minute  too  soon. 
They  had  not  pulled  fifty  yards  from  their  late  home 
when  she  gave  a  sudden  lurch  to  port  and  went 
down  stern  foremost. 

To  say  that  the  party  looked  aghast  at  this  sudden 
catastrophe,  would  be  to  give  but  a  feeble  idea  of 
the  state  of  their  minds.  For  some  minutes  they 
could  do  nothing  but  stare  in  silence  at  the  few  feet 
of  the  Nora's  topmast  which  alone  remained  above 

I 


130  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

water  as  a  sort  of  tombstone  to  mark  her  ocean 
grave. 

When  they  did  at  length  break  silence,  it  was  in 
short  interjectional  remarks,  as  they  resumed  the 
oars. 

Mr.  Jones,  without  making  a  remark  of  any  kind, 
shipped  the  rudder ;  the  other  four  pulled. 

"  Shall  we  make  for  land  ?"  asked  Jim  Welton, 
after  a  time. 

"Not  wi'  the  tide  running  like  this,"  answered 
Jones ;  "  we  '11  make  the  Gull,  and  get  'em  to  take 
us  aboard  till  morning.  At  slack  tide  we  can  go 
ashore." 

In  perfect  silence  they  rowed  towards  the  floating 
light,  which  was  not  more  than  a  mile  distant  from 
the  scene  of  the  disaster.  As  the  ebb  tide  was 
running  strong,  Jim  hailed  before  they  were  close 
alongside — "  Gull,  ahoy !  heave  us  a  rope,  will 
you  ?" 

There  was  instant  bustle  on  board  the  floating 
light,  and  as  the  boat  came  sweeping  past  a  growl 
of  surprise  was  heard  to  issue  from  the  mate's 
throat  as  he  shouted,  "  Look  out !" 

A  rope  came  whirling  down  on  their  heads,  which 
was  caught  and  held  on  to  by  Jim. 

"All  right,  father,"  he  said,  looking  up. 

"All  wrong,  I  think,"  replied  the  sire,  looking 
down.  "  Why,  Jim,  you  always  turn  up  like  a  bad 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         131 

shilling,  and  in  bad  company  too.  Where  ever  have 
you  come  from  this  time  ?" 

"  From  the  sea,  father.  Don't  keep  jawin'  there, 
but  help  us  aboard,  and  you  '11  hear  all  about  it." 

By  this  time  Jones  had  gained  the  deck,  followed 
by  Stanley  Hall  and  Billy.  These  quickly  gave  a 
brief  outline  of  the  disaster,  and  were  hospitably 
received  on  board,  while  Jim  and  Grundymade  fast 
the  tackles  to  their  boat,  and  had  it  hoisted  inboard. 

"You  won't  require  to  pull  ashore  to-morrow," 
said  the  elder  Mr.  "VVelton,  as  he  shook  his  son's 
hand.  "  The  tender  will  come  off  to  us  in  the 
morning,  and  no  doubt  the  captain  will  take  you  all 
ashore." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  observed  Stanley,  "  because 
it  seems  to  me  that  our  boat  is  worthy  of  the  rotten 
sloop  to  which  she  belonged,  and  might  fail  to  reach 
the  shore  after  all !" 

"  Her  owner  is  rather  fond  of  ships  and  boats  that 
have  got  the  rot,"  said  Mr.  Welton,  senior,  looking 
with  a  somewhat  stern  expression  at  Morley  Jones, 
who  was  in  the  act  of  stooping  to  wring  the  water 
out  of  the  legs  of  his  trousers. 

"  If  he  is,"  said  Jones,  with  M>  equally  stern 
glance  at  the  mate,  "  he  is  the  oiJ  v  loser — at  all 
events  the  chief  one — by  his  fondness." 

"  You  're  right,"  retorted  Mr.  Welton  sharply ; 
"the  loss  of  a  kit  may  be  replaced,  but  there  are 


132  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

name  things  which  cannot  be  replaced  when  lost. 
However,  you  know  your  own  affairs  best.  Corne 
below,  friends,  and  have  something  to  eat  and 
drink." 

After  the  wrecked  party  had  been  hospitably 
entertained  in  the  cabin  with  biscuit  and  tea,  they 
returned  to  the  deck,  and,  breaking  up  into  small 
parties,  walked  about  or  leaned  over  the  bulwarks  in 
earnest  conversation.  Jack  Shales  and  Jerry  Mac- 
Gowl  took  possession  of  Jim  Welton,  and,  hurrying 
him  forward  to  the  windlass,  made  him  there 
undergo  a  severe  examination  and  cross-questioning 
as  to  how  the  sloop  Nora  had  met  with  her  disaster. 
These  were  soon  joined  by  Billy  Towler,  to  whom 
the  gay  manner  of  Shales  and  the  rich  brogue  of 
MacGowl  were  irresistibly  attractive. 

Jim,  however,  proved  to  be  much  more  reticent 
than  his  friends  deemed  either  necessary  or  agree- 
able. After  a  prolonged  process  of  pumping,  to 
which  he  submitted  with  much  good  humour  and 
an  apparent  readiness  to  be  pumped  quite  dry,  Jerry 
MacGowl  exclaimed, — 

"  Och,  it  ain't  of  no  use  trying  to  git  no  daiper. 
Sure  we've  sounded  'im  to  the  bottom,  an'  found 
nothin'  at  all  but  mud." 

"  Ay,  he 's  about  as  incomprehensible  as  that 
famous  poet  you're  for  ever  givin'  us  screeds  o£ 
What's  'is  name — somebody's  son  ?" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         133 

"  Tenny's  son,  av  coorse,"  replied  Jerry ;  but  he 
ain't  incomprehensible,  Jack ;  he 's  only  too  daip  for 
a  man  of  or'nary  intellick.  His  thoughts  is  so 
awful  profound  sometimes  that  the  longest  deep-sea 
lead  line  as  ever  was  spun  can't  reach  the  bottom  of 
'em.  It's  only  such  oncommon  philosophers  as 
Dick  Moy  there,  or  a  boardin'-school  miss  (for  ex- 
tremes meet,  you  know,  Jack),  that  can  rightly 
make  him  out." 

"  Wot 's  that  you  're  sayin'  about  Dick  Moy  ?" 
inquired  that  worthy,  who  had  just  joined  the  group 
at  the  windlass. 

"  He  said  you  was  a  philosopher,"  answered  Shales. 

"You're  another,"  growled  Dick,  bluntly,  to 
MacGowl. 

"  Faix,  that 's  true,"  replied  Jerry ;  "  there 's  two 
philosophers  aboord  of  this  here  light,  an'  the  lumin- 
ous power  of  our  united  intellicks  is  so  strong  that 
I  've  had  it  in  my  mind  more  than  wance  to  suggest 
that  if  they  wos  to  hoist  you  and  me  to  the  mast- 
head together,  the  Gull  would  git  on  first-rate  with- 
out any  lantern  at  all" 

"  Not  a  bad  notion  that,"  said  Jack  Shales.  "  I  '11 
mention  it  to  the  superintendent  to-morrow,  when 
the  tender  comes  alongside.  P'raps  he  11  report  you 
to  the  Trinity  House  as  being  willin'  to  serve  in  that 
way  without  pay,  for  the  sake  of  economy." 

"No,  not  for  economy,  mate,"  objected  Dick  Moy. 


134  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  "We  can't  afford  to  do  dooty  as  lights  without  in- 
creased pay.  Just  think  of  the  intellektooal  force  re- 
quired for  to  keep  the  lights  agoin'  night  after  night." 

"  Ay,  and  the  amount  of  the  doctor's  bill,"  broke 
in  MacGowl,  "  for  curin'  the  extra  cowlds  caught  at 
the  mast-head  in  thick  weather." 

"  But  we  wouldn't  go  up  in  thick  weather,  stoopid," 
said  Moy, — "wot  ud  be  the  use  ?  Ain't  the  gong 
enough  at  sich  times?" 

"  Och,  to  be  sure.  Didn't  I  misremember  that  ? 
What  a  thing  it  is  to  be  ready-witted,  now  !  And 
since  we  are  makin'  sich  radical  changes  in  the  float- 
ing-light system,  what  would  ye  say,  boys,  to  advise 
the  Boord  to  use  the  head  of  Jack  Shales  instead  of 
a  gong?  It  would  sound  splendiferous,  for  there 
ain't  no  more  in  it  than  an  empty  cask.  The  last 
gong  they  sint  us  down  was  cracked,  you  know,  so 
I  fancy  that 's  considered  the  right  sort ;  and  if  so, 
Jack's  head  is  cracked  enough  in  all  conscience." 

"  I  suppose,  Jerry,"  said  Shales,  "  if  my  head  was 
appointed  gong,  you  'd  like  that  your  fist  should  git 
the  situation  of  drumstick." 

"Stop  your  chaffin',  boys,  and  let's  catch  some 
birds  for  to-morrow's  dinner,"  said  one  of  the 
men  who  had  been  listening  to  the  conversation." 
"  There 's  an  uncommon  lot  of  'em  about  to-night, 
an'  it  seems  to  me  if  the  fog  increases  we  shall  have 
more  of  'em." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         135 

"Ho— o—o — ! 

"  '  Sich  a  gittin'  up  stairs,  and 
A  playin'  on  the  fiddle/  " 

sang  Jack  Shales,  as  lie  sprang  up  the  wire-rope 
ladder  that  led  to  the  lantern,  round  which  innum- 
erable small  birds  were  flitting,  as  if  desirous  of 
launching  themselves  bodily  into  the  bright  light. 

"What  is  that  fellow  about?"  inquired  Stanley 
Hall  of  the  mate,  as  the  two  stood  conversing  near 
the  binnacle. 

"He's  catching  small  birds,  sir.  "We  often  get 
a  number  in  that  way  here.  But  they  ain't  so 
numerous  about  the  Gull  as  I  've  seen  them  in  some 
of  the  other  lightships.  You  may  find  it  difficult  to 
believe,  but  I  do  assure  you,  sir,  that  I  have  caught 
as  many  as  five  hundred  birds  with  my  own  hand  in 
the  course  of  two  hours." 

"  Indeed !  what  sort  of  birds  ?" 

"  Larks  and  starlings  chiefly,  but  there  were  other 
kinds  amongst  'em.  Why,  sir,  they  flew  about  my 
head  and  round  the  lantern  like  clouds  of  snow- 
flakes.  I  was  sittin'  on  the  lantern  just  as  Shales 
is  sittin'  now,  and  the  birds  came  so  thick  that  I  had 
to  pull  my  sou'-wester  down  over  my  eyes,  and  hold 
up  my  hands  sometimes  before  my  face  to  protect 
myself,  for  they  hit  me  all  over.  I  snapped  at  'em, 
and  caught  'em  as  fast  as  I  could  use  my  hands — 
gave  their  heads  a  screw,  and  crammed  'em  into  my 


THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

pockets.  In  a  short  time  the  pockets  were  all  as 
full  as  they  could  hold — coat,  vest,  and  trousers.  I 
had  to  do  it  so  fast  that  many  of  'em  wasn't  properly 
killed,  and  some  came  alive  agin,  hopped  out  of  my 
pockets,  and  flew  away." 

At  that  moment  there  arose  a  laugh  from  the  men 
as  they  watched  their  comrade,  who  happened  to  be 
performing,  a  feat  somewhat  similar  to  that  just  de- 
scribed by  the  mate. 

Jack  Shales  had  seated  himself  on  the  roof  of  the 
lantern.  This  roof  being  opaque,  he  and  the  mast, 
which  rose  above  him,  and  its  distinctive  ball  on  the 
top,  were  enveloped  in  darkness.  Jack  appeared 
like  a  man  of  ebony  pictured  against  the  dark  sky. 
His  form  and  motions  could  therefore  be  distinctly 
seen,  although  his  features  were  invisible.  He 
appeared  to  be  engaged  in  resisting  an  attack  from 
a  host  of  little  birds  which  seemed  to  have  made  up 
their  minds  to  unite  their  powers  for  his  destruction ; 
the  fact  being  that  the  poor  things,  fascinated  by  the 
brilliant  light,  flew  over,  under,  and  round  it,  with  eyes 
so  dazzled  that  they  did  not  observe  the  man  until 
almost  too  late  to  sheer  off  and  avoid  him.  In- 
deed, many  of  them  failed  in  this  attempt,  and  flew 
right  against  his  head,  or  into  his  bosom.  These  he 
caught,  killed,  and  pocketed,  as  fast  as  possible,  until 
his  pockets  were  full,  when  he  descended  to  empty 
them. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         137 

"  Hallo  !  Jack,  mind  your  eye,"  cried  Dick  Moy,  as 
his  friend  set  foot  on  the  deck,  "  there 's  one  of  'ein  a- 
goin'  off  with  that  crooked  sixpence  you're  so  fond  of." 

Jack  caught  a  starling  which  was  in  the  act  of 
wriggling  out  of  his  coat  pocket,  and  gave  it  a  final 
twist. 

"  Hold  your  hats,  boys,"  he  cried,  hauling  forth 
the  game.  "  Talk  of  a  Scotch  moor — there 's  nothin' 
equal  to  the  top  of  the  Gull  lantern  for  real  sport !" 

"  I  say,  Jack,"  cried  Mr.  Welton,  who,  with 
Stanley  and  the  others,  had  crowded  round  the  suc- 
cessful sportsman,  "  there  are  some  strange  birds  on 
the  ball.  Gulls  or  crows,  or  owls.  If  you  look 
sharp  and  get  inside,  you  may  perhaps  catch  them 
by  the  legs." 

Billy  Towler  heard  this  remark,  and,  looking  up, 
saw  the  two  birds  referred  to,  one  seated  on  the  ball 
at  the  mast-head,  the  other  at  that  moment  sailing 
round  it.  Now  it  must  be  told,  and  the  reader  will 
easily  believe  it,  that  during  all  this  scene  Billy  had 
looked  on  not  only  with  intense  interest,  but  with 
a  wildness  of  excitement  peculiar  to  himself,  while 
his  eyes  flashed,  and  his  small  hands  tingled  with  a 
desire  to  have,  not  merely  a  finger,  but,  all  his  ten 
fingers,  in  the  pie.  Being  only  a  visitor,  however, 
and  ignorant  of  everybody  and  everything  connected 
with  a  floating  light,  he  had  modestly  held  his  tongue 
and  kept  in  the  background.  But  he  could  no 


138  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

longer  withstand  the  temptation  to  act.  Without 
uttering  a  word,  he  leaped  upon  the  rope-ladder  of 
the  lantern,  and  was  half  way  up  it  before  any  one 
observed  him,  determined  to  forestall  Jack  Shales. 
Then  there  was  a  shouting  of  "  Hallo  !  what  is  that 
scamp  up  to  ?"  "  Come  down,  you  monkey !"  "He '11 
break  his  neck!"  "  Serve  him  right !"  "  Hi!  come 
down,  will  'ee  ?"  and  similar  urgent  as  well  as  compli- 
mentary expressions,  to  all  of  which  Billy  turned  a 
deaf  ear.  Another  minute  and  he  stood  on  the  roof  of 
the  lantern,  looking  up  at  the  ball  and  grasping  the 
mast,  which  rose — a  bare  pole — twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
above  him. 

"  Och !  av  the  spalpeen  tries  that,"  exclaimed 
Jerry  MacGowl,  "  it  '11  be  the  ind  of  'im  intirely." 

Billy  Towler  did  try  it.  Many  a  London  lamp- 
post had  he  shinned  up  in  his  day.  The  difference 
did  not  seem  to  him  very  great.  The  ball,  he  ob- 
served, was  made  of  light  bands  or  lathes  arranged 
somewhat  in  the  form  of  lattice-work.  It  was  full 
six  feet  in  diameter,  and  had  an  opening  in  the 
under  part  by  which  a  man  could  enter  it.  Through 
the  lozenge-shaped  openings  he  could  see  two  enor- 
mous ravens  perched  on  the  top.  Pausing  merely 
for  a  second  or  two  to  note  these  facts  and  recover 
breath,  he  shinned  up  the  bare  pole  like  a  monkey, 
and  got  inside  the  ball. 

The  spectators  on  deck  stood  in  breathless  sus- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         139 

pense  and  anxiety,  unable  apparently  to  move  ;  but 
when  they  saw  Billy  clamber  up  the  side  of  the  ball 
like  a  mouse  in  a  wire  cage,  put  forth  his  hand,  seize 
one  of  the  ravens  by  a  leg  and  drag  it  through  the 
bars  to  him,  a  ringing  cheer  broke  forth,  which  was 
mingled  with  shouts  of  uncontrollable  laughter. 

The  operation  of  drawing  the  ill-omened  bird 
through  the  somewhat  narrow  opening  against  the 
feathers,  had  the  double  effect  of  ruffling  it  out  to 
a  round  and  ragged  shape,  very  much  beyond  its 
ordinary  size,  and  of  rousing  its  spirit  to  ten  times 
its  wonted  ferocity,  insomuch  that,  when  once  fairly 
inside,  it  attacked  its  captor  with  claw,  beak,  and 
wing  furiously.  It  had  to  do  battle,  however,  with 
an  infant  Hercules.  Billy  held  on  tight  to  its  leg, 
and  managed  to  restrain  its  head  and  wings  with 
one  arm,  while  with  the  other  he  embraced  the  mast 
and  slid  down  to  the  lantern ;  but  not  before  the 
raven  freed  its  head  and  one  of  its  wings,  and  re- 
newed its  violent  resistance. 

On  the  lantern  he  paused  for  a  moment  to  make 
the  captive  more  secure,  and  _then  let  his  legs  drop 
over  the  edge  of  the  lantern,  intending  to  get  on  the 
rounds  of  the  ladder,  but  his  foot  missed  the  first 
one.  In  his  effort  to  regain  it  he  slipped.  At 
that  instant  the  bird  freed  his  head,  and  with  a 
triumphant  "caw!"  gave  Billy  an  awful  peck  on 
the  nose.  The  result  was  that  the  poor  boy  fell 


140  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

back.  He  could  not  restrain  a  shriek  as  he  did  so, 
but  he  still  kept  hold  of  the  raven,  and  made  a  wild 
grasp  with  his  disengaged  hand.  Fortunately  he 
caught  the  ladder,  and  remained  swinging  and 
making  vain  efforts  to  hook  his  leg  round  one  of  the 
ropes. 

"Let  go  the  bird!"  shouted  the  mate,  rushing 
underneath  the  struggling  youth,  resolved  at  all 
hazards  to  be  ready  to  break  his  fall  if  he  should 
let  go. 

"  Howld  on !"  yelled  Jerry  MacGowl,  springing 
up  the  ladder — as  Jack  Shales  afterwards  said — like 
a  Chimpanzee  maniac,  and  clutching  Billy  by  the 
neck. 

"  Ye  may  let  go  now,  ye  spalpeen,"  said  Jerry,  as 
he  held  the  upper  half  of  Billy's  shirt,  vest,  and  jacket 
in  his  powerful  and  capacious  grasp,  "  I  '11  howld  ye 
safe  enough." 

At  that  moment  the  raven  managed  to  free  its 
dishevelled  wings,  the  fierce  flapping  of  which  it 
added  to  its  clamorous  cries  and  struggles  of  indig- 
nation. Feeling  himself  safe,  Billy  let  go  his  hold, 
and  used  the  freed  hand  to  seize  the  raven's  other 
leg.  Then  the  Irishman  descended,  and  thus,  amid 
the  riotous  wriggles  and  screams  of  the  dishevelled 
bird,  and  the  cheers,  laughter,  and  congratulations  of 
his  friends,  our  little  hero  reached  the  deck  in  safety. 
But  this  was  not  the  end  of  their  bird-catching 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         141 

on  that  memorable  occasion.  It  was,  indeed,  the 
grand  incident  of  the  night — the  culminating  point, 
as  it  were,  of  the  battle — but  there  was  a  good  deal 
of  light  skirmishing  afterwards.  Billy's  spirit,  having 
been  fairly  roused,  was  not  easily  allayed.  After 
having  had  a  piece  of  plaister  stuck  on  the  point  of 
his  nose,  which  soon  swelled  up  to  twice  its  ordinary 
dimensions,  and  became  bulbous  in  appearance,  he 
would  fain  have  returned  to  the  lantern  to  prosecute 
the  war  with  renewed  energy.  This,  however, 
Mr.  "VVelton  senior  would  by  no  means  permit,  so 
the  youngster  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with 
skirmishing  on  deck,  in  which  he  was  also  successful. 
One  starling  he  found  asleep  in  the  fold  of  a 
tarpaulin.  Another  he  discovered  in  a  snug  corner 
under  the  lee  of  one  of  the  men's  coats,  and  both 
were  captured  easily.  Then  Dick  Moy  showed  him 
a  plan  whereby  he  caught  half  a  dozen  birds  in  as 
many  minutes.  He  placed  a  small  hand-lantern 
on  the  deck,  and  spread  a  white  handkerchief  in 
front  of  it.  The  birds  immediately  swarmed  round 
this  so  vigorously,  that  they  even  overturned  the 
lantern  once  or  twice.  Finally,  settling  down  on  the 
handkerchief,  they  went  to  sleep.  It  was  evident 
that  the  poor  things  had  not  been  flying  about  for 
mere  pleasure.  They  had  been  undoubtedly  fasci- 
nated by  the  ship's  glaring  light,  and  had  kept  flying 
round  it  until  nearly  exhausted,  insomuch  that  they 


142  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

fell  asleep  almost  immediately  after  settling  clown  on 
the  handkerchief,  and  were  easily  laid  hold  of. 

During  the  intervals  of  this  warfare  Mr.  George 
Welton  related  to  Billy  Towler  and  Stanley  Hall 
numerous  anecdotes  of  his  experience  in  bird-catch- 
ing on  board  the  floating  lights.  Mr.  Welton  had 
been  long  in  the  service,  and  had  passed  through  all 
the  grades;  having  commenced  as  a  seaman,  and 
risen  to  be  a  lamplighter  and  a  mate — the  position 
he  then  occupied.  His  office  might,  perhaps,  be 
more  correctly  described  as  second  master,  because 
the  two  were  never  on  board  at  the  same  time,  each 
relieving  the  other  month  about,  and  thus  each 
being  in  a  precisely  similar  position  as  to  command, 
though  not  so  in  regard  to  pay. 

"  There  was  one  occasion,"  said  the  mate,  "  when 

* 

I  had  a  tough  set-to  with  a  bird,  something  like 
what  you  have  had  to-night,  youngster.  I  was 
stationed  at  the  time  in  the  Newarp  light- vessel,  off 
the  Norfolk  coast.  It  happened  not  long  after  the 
light  had  gone  up.  I  observed  a  very  large  bird 
settle  on  the  roof  of  the  lantern,  so  I  went  cautiously 
up,  hopin'  it  would  turn  out  a  good  one  to  eat, 
because  you  must  know  we  don't  go  catchin'  these 
birds  for  mere  pastime.  We  're  very  glad  to  get 
'em  to  eat;  and  I  can  assure  you  the  larks  make 
excellent  pies.  Well,  I  raised  my  head  slowly  above 
the  lantern,  and  pounced  on  it.  Instantly  its  claws 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAXDS.          143 

went  deep  into  my  hands.  I  seized  its  neck,  and 
tried  to  choke  it;  but  the  harder  I  squeezed,  the 
harder  it  nipped,  until  I  was  forced  to  sing  out  for 
help.  Leavin'  go  the  neck,  in  order  to  have  one 
hand  free,  I  descended  the  ladder  with  the  bird 
hanging  to  the  other  hand  by  its  claws.  I  found  I 
had  no  occasion  to  hold  tight  to  it,  for  it  held  tight 
to  me  I  Before  I  got  down,  however,  it  had  recovered 
a  bit,  let  go,  and  flew  away,  but  took  refuge  soon  after 
in  the  lantern-house  on  deck.  Here  I  caught  it  a 
second  time,  and  once  more  received  the  same 
punishment  from  its  claws.  I  killed  it  at  last, 
and  then  found,  to  my  disgust,  that  it  was  a  monster 
sparrow-hawk,  and  not  fit  for  food  ! " 

"  Somethink  floatin'  alongside,  sir,"  said  Dick 
Moy,  running  aft  at  that  moment  and  catching  up  a 
boat-hook,  with  which  he  made  a  dart  at  the  object 
in  question,  and  struck,  but  failed  to  secure  it. 

"  What  is  it,  Moy  ? "  asked  Mr.  Welton. 

"  On'y  a  bit  o'  wreck,  I  think.  It  looked  like  a 
corp  at  first." 

Soon  after  this  most  of  the  people  on  board  the 
Gull  went  below  and  turned  in,  leaving  the  deck 
in  charge  of  the  regular  watch,  which,  on  that  occa- 
sion, consisted  of  Dick  and  his  friend  Jack  Shales. 
Jerry  MacGowl  kept  them  company  for  a  time, 
being,  as  he  observed,  "  sintimentally  inclined  "  that 
night. 


144  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Stanley  Hall,  attracted  by  the  fineness  of  the 
night,  also  remained  on  deck  a  short  time  after  the 
others  were  gone. 

"  Do  you  often  see  dead  bodies  floating  pas.t  ? "  he 
asked  of  Dick  Moy, 

"Not  wery  often,  sir,  but  occasionally  we  does. 
You  see,  we  're  so  nigh  the  Goodwin  sands,  where 
wrecks  take  place  in  the  winter  months  pritty  con- 
stant, that  poor  fellers  are  sometimes  washed  past 
us ;  but  they  ain't  always  dead.  One  night  we 
heard  loud  cries  not  far  off  from  us,  but  it  was 
blowin'  a  gale,  and  the  night  was  so  dark  we  could 
see  nothin'.  We  could  no  more  have  launched  our 
boat  than  we  could  'ave  gone  over  the  falls  o' 
Niagary  without  capsizin'.  When  next  the  relief 
corned  off,  we  heard  that  it  was  three  poor  fellers 
gone  past  on  a  piece  of  wreck." 

"  Were  they  lost  ? "  inquired  Stanley. 

"  No,  sir,  they  warn't  all  of  'em  lost  A  brig  saw 
'em  at  daylight,  but  just  as  they  wos  being  picked 
up,  one  wos  so  exhausted  he  slipped  off  the  wreck 
an'  wos  drownded.  'Nother  time,"  continued  Moy, 
as  he  paced  slowly  to  and  fro,  "  we  seed  a  corp  float 
past,  and  tried  to  'ook  it  with  the  boat-'ook,  but 
missed  it.  It  wos  on  its  face,  and  we  could  see  it 
'ad  on  a  belt  and  sheath-knife.  There  wos  a  bald 
spot  on  the  'ead,  and  the  gulls  wos  peckin'  at  it,  so 
we  know'd  it  wos  dead — wery  likely  a  long  time." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         145 

"There's  a  tight  liftle  craft,"  remarked  Shales, 
pointing  to  a  vessel  which  floated  at  no  great  dis- 
tance off. 

"  Wich  d'  ye  mean  ? "  asked  Dick ;  for  there  were 
so  many  vessels,  some  at  anchor  and  some  floating 
past  with  the  tide,  like  phantom  ships,  that  it  was 
not  easy  to  make  out  which  vessel  was  referred  to ; 
"  the  one  wi'  the  shoulder-o'-mutton  mains'!  ? " 

"No;  that  schooner  with  the  raking  masts  an' 
topsail  ? " 

"  Ah,  that 's  a  purty  little  thing  from  owld  Ire- 
land," returned  Jerry  MacGowl.  "  I  'd  know  her 
anywhere  by  the  cut  of  her  jib.  Av  she  would 
only  spaik,  she  'd  let  ye  hear  the  brogue." 

"  Since  ye  know  her  so  well,  Paddy,  p'raps  you 
can  tell  us  what 's  her  cargo  ?"  said  Jack  Shales. 

"  Of  coorse  I  can — it 's  fruit  an'  timber,"  replied 
Jerry. 

"  Fruit  and  timber ! "  exclaimed  Stanley  with  a 
laugh ;  "  I  was  not  aware  that  such  articles  were 
exported  from  Ireland." 

"Ah,  sure  they  are,  yer  honour,"  replied  Jerry. 
"No  doubt  the  English,  with  that  low  spirit  of 
jealousy  that's  pecooliar  to  'em,  would  say  it 
was  brooms  an'  taties,  but  we  calls  it  fruit  and 
timber ! " 

"  After  that,  Jerry,  I  think  it  is  time  for  me  to 
turn  in,  so  I  wish  you  both  a  good-night,  lads." 

K 


146  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"Good-night,  sir,  good- night/'  replied  the  men, 
as  Stanley  descended  to  his  berth,  leaving  the  watch 
to  spin  yarns  and  perambulate  the  deck  until  the 
bright  beams  of  the  floating  light  should  be  ren- 
dered unnecessary  by  the  brighter  beams  of  the 
rising  sun. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  147 


CHAPTER  X. 

TREATS  OF  TENDER  SUBJECTS  OF  A  PECULIAR  KIND,  AND  SHOWS  HOW 
BILLY  TOWLER  GOT  INTO  SCRAPES  AND  OUT  OF  THEM. 

THE  fact  that  we  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth,  receives  frequent,  and  sometimes  very  striking, 
illustration  in  the  experience  of  most  people.  That 
the  day  may  begin  with  calm  and  sunshine,  yet  end 
in  clouds  and  tempest — or  vice  versa — is  a  truism 
which  need  not  be  enforced.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a 
truism  which  men  are  none  the  worse  of  being  re- 
minded of  now  and  then.  Poor  Billy  Towler  was 
very  powerfully  reminded  of  it  on  the  day  following 
his  night-adventure  with  the  ravens  ;  and  his  master 
was  taught  that  the  best-laid  plans  of  men,  as  well 
as  mice,  are  apt  to  get  disordered,  as  the  sequel 
will  show. 

Next  morning  the  look-out  on  board  the  Gull 
lightship  reported  the  Trinity  steam-tender  in  sight, 
off  the  mouth  of  Kamsgate  harbour,  and  the  ensign 
was  at  once  hoisted  as  an  intimation  that  she  had 
been  observed. 


148  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

This  arrangement,  by  the  way,  of  hoisting  a  signal 
on  board  the  floating  lights  when  any  of  the  Trinity 
yachts  chance  to  heave  in  sight,  is  a  clever  device, 
whereby  the  vigilance  of  light-ship  crews  is  secured, 
because  the  time  of  the  appearing  of  these  yachts 
is  irregular,  and,  therefore,  a  matter  of  uncertainty. 
Every  one  knows  the  natural  and  almost  irresistible 
tendency  of  the  human  mind  to  relax  in  vigilance 
when  the  demand  on  attention  is  continual — that 
the  act,  by  becoming  a  mere  matter  of  daily  routine, 
loses  much  of  its  intensity.  The  crews  of  floating 
lights  are,  more  than  most  men,  required  to  be  per- 
petually on  the  alert,  because,  besides  the  danger  that 
would  threaten  innumerable  ships  should  their 
vessels  drift  from  their  stations,  or  any  part  of  their 
management  be  neglected,  there  is  great  danger  to 
themselves  of  being  run  into  during  dark  stormy 
nights  or  foggy  days.  Constant  vigilance  is  partly 
secured,  no  doubt,  by  a  sense  of  duty  in  the  men;  it  is 
increased  by  the  feeling  of  personal  risk  that  would 
result  from  carelessness ;  and  it  is  almost  perfected 
by  the  order  for  the  hoisting  of  a  flag  as  above  re- 
ferred to. 

The  superintendent  of  the  district  of  which  Eams- 
gate  is  head-quarters,  goes  out  regularly *once  every 
month  in  the  tender  to  effect  what  is  styled  "  the 
relief," — that  is,  to  change  the  men,  each  of  whom 
passes  two  months  aboard  and  one  month  on  shore, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         149 

while  the  masters  and  mates  alternately  have  a 
month  on  shore  and  a  month  on  board.  At  the 
same  time  he  puts  on  board  of  the  four  vessels  of 
which  he  has  charge — namely,  the  Goodwin,  the  Gull, 
the  South -sandhead,  and  the  Varne  light-ships, — 
water,  coal,  pro  visions,  and  oil  for  the  month,  and  such 
stores  as  may  be  required ;  returning  with  the  men 
relieved  and  the  empty  casks  and  cans,  etc.,  to  Kams- 
gate  harbour.  Besides  this,  the  tender  is  constantly 
obliged  to  go  out  at  irregular  intervals — it  may  be 
even  several  times  in  a  week — for  the  purpose  of 
replacing  buoys  that  have  been  shifted  by  storms — 
marking,  with  small  green  buoys,  the  spot  where  a 
vessel  may  have  gone  down,  and  become  a  dangerous 
obstruction  in  the  "  fair  way  " — taking  up  old  chains 
and  sinkers,  and  placing  new  ones — painting  the 
buoys — and  visiting  the  North  and  South  Fore- 
land lighthouses,  which  are  also  under  the  district 
superintendent's  care. 

On  all  of  these  occasions  the  men  on  duty  in  the 
floating  lights  are  bound  to  hoist  their  flag  whenever 
the  tender  chances  to  pass  them  within  sight,  on 
pain  of  a  severe  reprimand  if  the  duty  be  neglected, 
and  something  worse  if  such  neglect  be  of  frequent 
occurrence.  In  addition  to  this,  some  of  the 
Elder  Brethren  of  the  Trinity  House  make  periodi- 
cal visits  of  inspection  to  all  the  floating  lights 
round  the  coasts  of  England ;  and  this  they  do 


150  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

purposely  at  irregular  times,  in  order,  if  possible, 
to  catch  the  guardians  of  the  coast  napping ;  and 
woe  betide  "  the  watch  "  on  duty  if  these  inspecting 
Brethren  should  manage  to  get  pretty  close  to  any 
light-ship  without  having  received  the  salute  of  re- 
cognition !  Hence  the  men  of  the  floating  lights 
are  kept  ever  on  the  alert,  and  the  safety  of  the 
navigation,  as  far  as  human  wisdom  can  do  it,  is 
secured.  Hence  also,  at  whatever  time  any  of 
our  floating  lights  should  chance  to  be  visited  by 
strangers,  they,  like  our  lighthouses,  will  invariably 
be  found  in  perfect  working  order,  and  as  clean  as 
new  pins,  except,  of  course,  during  periods  of  general 
cleaning  up  or  painting. 

Begging  pardon  for  this  digression,  we  return  to 
Billy  Towler,  whose  delight  with  the  novelty  of  his 
recent  experiences  was  only  equalled  by  his  joyous 
anticipations  of  the  stirring  sea-life  that  yet  lay 
before  him. 

The  satisfaction  of  Mr.  Jones,  however,  at  the 
success  of  his  late  venture,  was  somewhat  damped 
by  the  information  that  he  would  have  to  spend  the 
whole  day  on  board  the  tender.  The  district  super- 
intendent, whose  arduous  and  multifarious  duties 
required  him  to  be  so  often  afloat  that  he  seemed  to 
be  more  at  home  in  the  tender  than  in  his  own  house 
ashore,  was  a  man  whose  agreeable  manners,  and 
kind,  hearty,  yet  firm  disposition,  had  made  him  a 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  151 

favourite  with  every  one  in  the  service.  Immedi- 
ately on  his  boarding  the  Gull,  he  informed  the  un- 
invited and  unfortunate  guests  of  that  floating  light 
that  he  would  be  very  glad  to  take  them  ashore,  but 
that  he  could  not  do  so  until  evening,  as,  besides  * 
effecting  "  the  relief,"  he  meant  to  take  advantage  of 
the  calm  weather  to  give  a  fresh  coat  of  paint  to  one 
or  two  buoys,  and  renew  their  chains  and  sinkers,  and 
expressed  a  hope  that  the  delay  would  not  put  them 
to  much  inconvenience. 

Stanley  Hall,  between  whom  and  the  superinten- 
dent there  sprang  up  an  intimate  and  sympathetic 
friendship  almost  at  first  sight,  assured  him  that  so 
far  from  putting  him  to  inconvenience  it  would 
afford  him  the  greatest  pleasure  to  spend  the  day 
on  board.  Billy  Towler  heard  this  arrangement 
come  to  with  an  amount  of  satisfaction  which  was 
by  no  means  shared  by  his  employer,  who  was 
anxious  to  report  the  loss  of  the  Nora  without  delay, 
and  to  claim  the  insurance  money  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. He  judged  it  expedient,  however,  to  keep 
his  thoughts  and  anxieties  to  himself,  and  only 
vented  his  feelings  in  a  few  deep  growls,  which, 
breaking  on  the  ears  of  Billy  Towler,  filled  the  heart 
of  that  youthful  sinner  with  additional  joy. 

"  Wot  a  savage  he  is  ! "  said  Dick  Moy,  looking  at 
Jones,  and  addressing  himself  to  Billy. 

"  Ah,  ain't  he  just !"  replied  the  urchin. 


152  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Has  he  not  bin  good  to  'ee  ? "  asked  the  big  sea- 
man, looking  down  with  a  kindly  expression  at  the 
small  boy. 

"Middling"  was  Billy's  cautious  reply.  "I  say, 
Neptune,"  he  added,  looking  up  into  Dick's  face, 
"  wot's  yer  name  ?" 

"It  ain't  Neptune,  anyhow,"  replied  Dick.  "  That 's 
wot  we  've  called  the  big  black  Noofoundland  dog 
you  sees  over  there  a-jumping  about  Jim  Welton  as 
if  he  had  failed  in  love  with  him." 

"  Why  is  it  so  fond  of  him  ?"  asked  Billy. 

Dick  replied  to  this  question  by  relating  the  in- 
cident of  the  dog's  rescue  by  Jim. 

"  Werry  interestin'.  Well,  but  wot  is  your  name  ?* 
said  Billy,  returning  to  the  point. 

"Dick." 

"  Of  course  I  know  that ;  I  've  heerd  'em  all  call  ye 
that  often  enough,  but  I  'spose  you  've  got  another?" 

"  Moy,"  said  the  big  seaman. 

"  Moy,  eh  ?"  cried  Billy,  with  a  grin,  "that  is  a  funny 
name,  but  there  ain't  enough  of  it  for  my  taste." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  at  this  point  by 
the  superintendent,  who,  having  been  for  many 
years  in  command  of  an  East  Indiaman,  was  styled 
"  Captain."  He  ordered  the  mate  and  men  whose 
turn  it  was  to  be  "  relieved  "  to  get  into  the  tender 
along  with  the  strangers.  Soon  afterwards  the 
vessel  steamed  away  over  the  glassy  water,  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         153 

Billy,  who  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  big  lamplighter, 
went  up  to  him  and  said, — 

"Well,  Dick  Moy,  where  are  we  agoin'  to  just 
now  ? " 

Dick  pointed  to  a  black  speck  on  the  water,  a 
considerable  distance  ahead  of  them. 

"  We  're  agoin'  to  that  there  buoy,  to  lift  it  and 
put  down  a  noo  un." 

"  Oh,  that 's  a  boy,  is  it  ?  and  are  them  there  boys 
too?"  asked  Billy,  looking  round  at  the  curious  oval 
and  conical  cask-like  things,  of  gigantic  proportions, 
which  lumbered  the  deck  and  filled  the  hold  of  the 
tender. 

"  Ay,  they  're  all  buoys." 

"  None  of  'em  girls  ?"  inquired  the  urchin  gravely. 

"No,  none  of  'em,"  replied  Dick  with  equal 
gravity,  for  to  him  the  joke  was  a  very  stale  one. 

"  No  ?  that 's  stoopid  now  ;  I  'd  'ave  'ad  some  of  'em 
girls  for  variety's  sake — wot 's  the  use  of  'em  ? "  asked 
the  imp,  who  pretended  ignorance,  in  order  to  draw 
out  his  burly  companion. 

"  To  mark  the  channels,"  replied  Dick.  "  We 
puts  a  red  buoy  on  one  side  and  a  checkered  buoy 
on  t'other,  and  if  the  vessels  keeps  atween  'em  they 
goes  all  right — if  not,  they  goes  ashore." 

"  H'm,  that 's  just  where  it  is  now,"  said  Billy. 
"  If  /  had  had  the  markin'  o'  them  there  channels  I  'd 
'ave  put  boys  on  one  side  an'  girls  on  t'other  all  the 


154  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

way  up  to  London — made  a  sort  o'  country  dance  of 
it,  an'  all  the  ships  would  'ave  gone  up  the  middle 
an'  down  agin,  d'  ye  see  ? " 

"  Port,  port  a  little,"  said  the  captain  at  that 
moment. 

"  Port  it  is,  sir/'  answered  Mr.  "Welton,  senior,  who 
stood  at  the  wheel. 

The  tender  was  now  bearing  down  on  one  of  the 
numerous  buoys  which  mark  off  the  channels  around 
the  Goodwin  sands,  and  it  required  careful  steer- 
ing in  order  to  avoid  missing  it  on  the  one  hand,  or 
running  into  it  on  the  other.  A  number  of  men 
stood  on  the  bow  of  the  vessel,  with  ropes  and 
boat-hooks,  in  readiness  to  catch  and  make  fast  to 
it.  These  men,  with  the  exception  of  two  or  three 
who  formed  the  permanent  crew  of  the  tender,  were 
either  going  off  to  "relieve  "  their  comrades  and  take 
their  turn  on  board  the  floating  lights,  or  were  on 
their  way  to  land,  having  been  "  relieved  " — such  as 
George  Welton  the  mate,  Dick  Moy,  and  Jerry 
MacGowL  Among  them  were  several  masters  and 
mates  belonging  to  the  light-vessels  of  that  district 
— sedate,  grave,  cheerful,  and  trustworthy  men,  all 
of  them — who  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  their 
lives  in  the  service,  and  were  by  that  time  middle- 
aged  or  elderly,  but  still,  with  few  exceptions,  as 
strong  and  hardy  as  young  men. 

Jerry,  being  an  unusually  .active  and  powerful 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          155 

fellow,  took  a  prominent  part  in  all  the  duties  that 
devolved  on  the  men  at  that  time. 

That  these  duties  were  not  light  might  have  been 
evident  to  the  most  superficial  observer,  for  the 
buoys  and  their  respective  chains  and  sinkers  were 
of  the  most  ponderous  and  unwieldy  description. 

Eeferring  to  this,  Stanley  Hall  said,  as  he  stood 
watching  the  progress  of  the  work,  "Why,  captain, 
up  to  this  day  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  regarding 
buoys  as  trifling  affairs,  not  much  bigger  or  more 
valuable  than  huge  barrels  or  washing-tubs,  but 
now  that  I  see  them  close  at  hand,  and  hear  all  you 
tell  me  about  them,  my  respect  increases  wonderfully." 

"  It  will  be  increased  still  more,  perhaps,"  replied 
the  captain,  "when  I  tell  you  the  cost  of  some  of  them. 
Now,  then,  MacGowl,  look  out — are  you  ready?" 

"All  ready,  sir." 

"  Port  a  little— steady." 

"  Steady !"  replied  Mr.  Welton. 

"  Arrah !  howld  on — och !  stiddy — heave — hooray !" 
cried  the  anxious  Irishman  as  he  made  a  plunge  at 
the  buoy  which  was  floating  alongside  like  a  huge 
iron  balloon,  bumping  its  big  forehead  gently,  yet 
heavily,  against  the  side  of  the  tender,  and,  in  that 
simple  way  conveying  to  the  mind  of  Stanley  an 
idea  of  the  great  difficulty  that  must  attend  the 
shifting  of  buoys  in  rough  weather. 

The  buoy  having  been  secured,  an  iron  hook  and 


156  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

chain  of  great  strength  were  then  attached  to  the  ring 
in  its  head.  The  chain  communicated  with  a  power- 
ful crane  rigged  up  on  the  foremast,  and  was  wrought 
by  a  steam  windlass  on  deck. 

"  You  see  we  require  strong  tackle,"  said  the  cap- 
tain to  Stanley,  while  the~  buoy  was  being  slowly 
raised.  "  That  buoy  weighs  fully  three-quarters  of 
a  ton,  and  cost  not  less,  along  with  its  chain  and 
sinker,  than  £150,  yet  it  is  not  one  of  our  largest. 
We  have  what  we  call  monster  buoys,  weighing  con- 
siderably more  than  a  ton,  which  cost  about  £300 
apiece,  including  a  60-fathom  chain  and  a  30-cwt. 
sinker.  -Those  medium-sized  ones,  made  of  wood 
and  hooped  like  casks,  cost  from  £80  to  £100  apiece 
without  appendages.  Even  that  small  green  fellow 
lying  there,  with  which  I  intend  to  mark  the  Nora, 
if  necessary,  is  worth  £§5,  and  as  there  are  many 
hundreds  of  such  buoys  all  round  the  kingdom,  you 
can  easily  believe  that  the  guarding  of  our  shores  is 
somewhat  costly." 

"  Indeed  it  must  be,"  answered  Stanley ;  "  and  if 
such  insignificant-looking  things  cost  so  much,  what 
must  be  the  expense  of  maintaining  floating  lights 
and  lighthouses  ?" 

"  I  can  give  you  some  idea  of  that  too,"  said  the 
captain — 

"  Look  out !"  exclaimed  the  men  at  that  moment. 

"  Och  !  be  aisy,"  cried  Jerry,  ducking  as  he  spoke, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  157 

and  thus  escaping  a  blow  from  the  buoy,  which 
would  have  cracked  his  head  against  the  vessel's 
side  like  a  walnut. 

"  Heave  away,  lad  ! n 

The  man  at  the  windlass  obeyed.  The  irresistible 
steam-winch  caused  the  huge  chain  to  grind  and 
jerk  in  its  iron  pulley,  and  the  enormous  globular 
iron  buoy  came  quietly  over  the  side,  black  here  and 
brown  there,  and  red-rusted  elsewhere;  its  green 
beard  of  sea-weed  dripping  with  brine,  and  its  sides 
grizzled  with  a  six-months'  growth  of  barnacles  and 
other  shell-fish. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that,  although  the  engine 
did  all  the  heavy  lifting,  the  men  had  merely  to  stand 
by  and  look  on.  In  the  mere  processes  of  capturing 
the  buoy  and  making  fast  the  chains  and  hooks, 
and  fending  off,  etc.,  there  was  an  amount  of  physi- 
cal effort — straining  and  energizing — on  the  part  of 
the  men,  that  could  scarcely  be  believed  unless  seen. 
Do  not  fancy,  good  reader,  that  we  are  attempting 
to  make  much  of  a  trifle  in  this  description.  Our 
object  is  rather  to  show  that  what  might  very  natur- 
ally be  supposed  to  be  trifling  and  easy  work,  is,  in 
truth,  very  much  the  reverse. 

The  buoy  having  been  lifted,  another  of  the  same 
size  and  shape,  but  freshly  painted,  was  attached  to 
the  chain,  tumbled  over  the  side,  and  left  in  its  place. 
In  this  case  the  chain  and  sinker  did  not  require 


158  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

renewing,  but  at  the  next  visited  it  was  found  that 
buoy,  chain,  and  sinker  had  to  be  lifted  and  renewed. 

And  here  again,  to  a  landsman  like  Stanley,  there 
was  much  to  interest  and  surprise.  .  If  a  man,  ignor- 
ant of  such  matters,  were  asked  what  he  would  do 
in  the  event  of  his  having  to  go  and  shift  one  of 
those  buoys,  he  might  probably  reply,  "Well,  I 
suppose  I  would  first  get  hold  of  the  buoy  and  hoist 
it  on  board,  and  then  throw  over  another  in  its 
place  ;"  but  it  is  not  probable  that  he  would  reflect 
that  this  process  involved  the  violent  upturning 
of  a  mass  of  wood  or  metal  so  heavy  that  all  the 
strength  of  the  dozen  men  who  had  to  struggle  with 
it  was  scarce  sufficient  to  move  gently  even  in  the 
water;  that,  being  upturned,  an  inch  chain  had 
to  be  unshackled — a  process  rendered  troublesome, 
owing  to  the  ponderosity  of  the  links  which  had  to 
be  dealt  with,  and  the  constrained  position  of  the 
man  who  wrought, — and  that  the  chain  and  sinker 
had  to  be  hauled  out  of  the  sand  or  mud  into  which 
they  had  sunk  so  much,  that  the  donkey-engine  had 
to  strain  until  the  massive  chains  seemed  about  to 
give  way,  and  the  men  stood  in  peril  of  having  their 
heads  suddenly  cut  open. 

Not  to  be  too  prolix  on  this  subject,  it  may  be 
said,  shortly,  that  when  the  chain  and  sinker  of  the 
next  buoy  were  being  hauled  in,  a  three-inch  rope 
snapped  and  grazed  the  finger  of  a  man,  fortunately 


•  OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          159 

taking  no  more  than  a  little  of  the  skin  off,  though 
it  probably  had  force  enough  to  have  taken  his  hand 
off  if  it  had  struck  him  differently.  Again  they 
tried,  but  the  sinker  had  got  so  far  down  into  the 
mud  that  it  would  not  let  go.  The  engine  went  at 
last  very  slowly,  for  it  was  applying  almost  the 
greatest  strain  that  the  chains  could  bear",  and  the 
bow  of  the  tender  was  hauled  considerably  down  into 
the  sea.  The  men  drew  back  a  little,  but,  after  a  few 
moments  of  suspense,  the  motion  of  the  vessel  gradu- 
ally loosened  the  sinker  and  eased  the  strain. 

"  There  she  goes,  handsomely,"  cried  the  men,  as 
the  engine  again  resumed  work  at  reasonable  speed. 

"We  sometimes  lose  chains  and  sinkers  alto- 
gether in  that  way,"  remarked  Dick  Moy  to  Billy, 
who  stood  looking  on  with  heightened  colour  and 
glowing  eyes,  and  wishing  with  all  the  fervour  of 
his  small  heart  that  the  whole  affair  would  give  way, 
in  order  that  he  might  enjoy  the  tremendous  crash 
which  he  thought  would  be  sure  to  follow. 

"  Would  it  be  a  great  loss  ?"  he  asked. 

"It  would,  a  wery  great  un,"  said  Dick ;  "  that  there 
chain  an'  sinker  is  worth  nigh  fifty  or  sixty  pound." 

While  this  work  was  being  done,  the  captain  was 
busy  with  his  telescope,  taking  the  exact  bearings 
of  the  buoy,  to  ascertain  whether  or  not  it  had  shifted 
its  position  during  the  six  months'  conflict  with  tide 
and  tempest  that  it  had  undergone  since  last  being 


160  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT      . 

overhauled.  Certain  buildings  on  shore  coming  into 
line  with  other  prominent  buildings,  such  as  steeples, 
chimneys,  and  windmills,  were  his  infallible  guides, 
and  these  declared  that  the  buoy  had  not  shifted 
more  than  a  few  feet.  He  therefore  gave  the  order 
to  have  the  fresh  buoy,  with  its  chain  and  sinker, 
ready  to  let  go. 

The  buoy  in  question, — a  medium  one  about 
eight  feet  high,  five  feet'  in  diameter,  and  conical  in 
shape — stood  at  the  edge  of  the  vessel,  like  an  ex- 
tinguisher for  the  biggest  candle  that  ever  was  con- 
ceived in  the  wildest  brain  at  Rome.  Its  sinker,  a 
square  mass  of  cast-iron  nearly  a  ton  in  weight,  lay  be- 
side it,  and  its  two-inch  chain,  every  link  whereof  was 
eight  or  ten  inches  long,  and  made  of  the  toughest 
malleable  iron,  was  coiled  carefully  on  the  main-hatch, 
so  that  nothing  should  impede  its  running  out. 

"All  ready?"  cried  the  captain,  taking  a  final 
glance  through  the  telescope. 

"  All  ready,  sir,"  replied  the  men,  several  of  whom 
stood  beside  the  buoy,  prepared  to  lay  violent  hands 
on  it,  while  two  stood  with  iron  levers  under  the 
sinker,  ready  to  heave. 

"  Stand  here,  Billy,  an*  you  '11  see  it  better,"  said 
Dick  Moy,  with  a  sly  look,  for  Dick  had  by  this 
time  learned  to  appreciate  the  mischievous  spirit  of 
the  urchin. 

"  Let  go  !"  cried  the  captain. 


SHIFTOW  TITE  BI.O1I1.  -  PMC ML 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          161 

"Let  go  !"  echoed  the  men. 

The  levers  were  raised ;  -the  thrust  was  given. 
Away  went  the  sinker ;  overboard  went  the  buoy ; 
out  went  the  chain  with  a  clanging  roar  and  a 
furious  rush,  and  up  sprang  a  column  of  white  spray, 
part  of  which  fell  in-board,  and  drenched  Billy 
Towler  to  the  skin ! 

As  well  might  Dick  Moy  have  attempted  to 
punish  a  pig  by  throwing  it  into  the  mud  as  to  dis- 
tress Billy  by  sousing  him  with  water  !  It  was  to 
him  all  but  a  native  element.  In  fact,  he  said  that 
he  believed  himself  to  be  a  hamphiberous  hanimal 
by  nature,  and  was  of  the  opinion  that  he  should 
have  been  born  a  merman. 

"  Hooray  !  shower-baths  free,  gratis,  for  nothink  !" 
he  yelled,  as  soon  as  he  had  re- caught  his  breath. 
"Any  more  o'  that  sort  comin'?"  he  cried,  as  he 
pulled  off  his  shirt  and  wrung  it. 

"  Plenty  more  wery  like  it,"  said  Dick,  cuhckling, 
"  and  to  be  had  wery  much  on  the  same  terms." 

"Ah,  if  you'd  only  jine  me — it  would  make  it 
so  much  more  pleasant,"  retorted  the  boy ;  "  but  it 
would  take  a  deal  more  water  to  kiver  yer  huge 
carcase." 

"  That  boy  will  either  make  a  first-rate  man,  or 
an  out-and-out  villain,"  observed  the  captain  to 
Stanley,  as  they  stood  listening  to  his  chaffing 
remarks. 

L 


162  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  He  '11  require  a  deal  of  taming,"  said  Jim  Welton, 
who  was  standing  by ;  "  but  he 's  a  smart,  well- 
disposed  little  fellow  as  far  as  I  know  him." 

Morley  Jones,  who  was  seated  on  the  starboard 
bulwarks  not  far  off,  confided  his  opinion  to  no  one, 
but  he  was  observed  to  indulge  in  a  sardonic  grin, 
and  to  heave  his  shoulders  as  if  he  were  agitated 
with  suppressed  laughter  when  this  last  remark  was 
made. 

The  steamer  meanwhile  had  been  making  towards 
another  of  the  floating  lights,  alongside  of  which 
some  time  was  spent  in  transferring  the  full  water- 
casks,  receiving  the  "  empties,"  etc.,  and  in  changing 
the  men.  The  same  process  was  gone  through 
with  the  other  vessels,  and  then,  in  the  afternoon, 
they  returned  towards  Eamsgate  harbour.  On  the 
way  they  stopped  at  one  of  the  large  buoys  which 
required  to  be  painted.  The  weather  being  suitable 
for  that  purpose,  a  boat  was  lowered,  black  and 
white  paint-pots  and  brushes  were  put  into  her, 
and  Jack  Shales,  Dick  Moy,  and  Jerry  MacGovvl 
were  told  off  to  perform  the  duty.  Stanley  Hall 
also  went  for  pastime,  and  Billy  Towler  slid  into  the 
boat  like  an  eel,  without  leave,  just  as  it  pushed  oft'. 

"  Get  out,  ye  small  varmint !"  shouted  Jerry  ;  but 
the  boy  did  not  obey ;  the  boat  was  already  a  few 
feet  off  from  the  vessel,  and  as  the  captain  either 
did  not  see  or  did  not  care,  Billy  was  allowed  to  go. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         163 

"  You  '11  only  be  in  the  way,  an'  git  tired  of  yer 
life  before  we  're  half  done,"  said  Dick  Moy. 

"  Never  mind,  he  shall  keep  me  company,"  said 
Stanley,  laughing.  "We  will  sit  in  judgment  on 
the  work  as  it  proceeds — won't  we,  Billy  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  the  boy,  with  intense  gravity, 
"  that  depends  on  whether  yer  fine-hart  edication  has 
bin  sufficiently  attended  to  ;  but  I  've  no  objection 
to  give  you  the  benefit  o'  my  adwice  if  you  gits  into 
difficulties." 

A  loud  laugh  greeted  this  remark,  and  Billy, 
smiling  with  condescension,  said  he  was  gratified  by 
their  approval. 

A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  bring  them  along- 
side the  buoy,  which  was  one  of  the  largest  size, 
shaped  like  a  cone,  and  painted  in  alternate  stripes 
of  white  and  black.  It  rose  high  above  the  heads 
of  the  men  when  they  stood  up  beside  it  in  the  boat. 
It  was  made  of  timber,  had  a  wooden  ring  round  it 
near  the  water,  and  bcre  evidence  of  having  received 
many  a  rude  buffet  from  ships  passing  in  the  dark. 

"A  nice  little  buoy  this,"  said  Billy,  looking  at 
it  with  the  eye  and  air  of  a  connoisseur;  "wot's 
its  name  ? " 

"  The  North  Goodwin  ;  can't  'ee  read  ?  don't  'ee  see 
its  name  up  there  on  its  side,  in  letters  as  long  as 
yerself  ?"  said  Jack  Shales,  as  he  stirred  up  the  paint 
in  one  of  the  pots. 


I 
164  TH2  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure ;  well,  it  might  have  bin  named 
the  Uncommon  Good- win,"  said  Billy,  "for  it  seems 
to  have  seen  rough  service,  and  to  have  stood  it 
well.  Come,  boys,  look  alive,  mix  yer  colours  an' 
go  to  work ;  England  expecks  every  man,  you  know, 
for  to  do  his  dooty." 

"Wot  a  bag  of  impudence  it  is  !"  said  Dick  Moy, 
catching  the  ring-bolt  on  the  top  of  the  buoy  with 
the  boat-hook,  and  holding  the  boat  as  close  to  it 
as  possible,  while  his  mates  dipped  their  brushes 
in  the  black  and  white  paint  respectively,  and  began 
to  work  with  the  energy  of  men  who  know  that  their 
opportunity  may  be  cut  short  at  any  moment  by  a 
sudden  squall  or  increasing^well. 

Indeed,  calm  though  the  water  was,  there  was 
enough  of  undulation  to  render  the  process  of  paint- 
ing one  of  some  difficulty,  for,  besides  the  impossi- 
bility of  keeping  the  boat  steady,  Dick  Moy  found 
that  all  his  strength  could  not  avail  to  prevent  the 
artists  being  drawn  suddenly  away  beyond  reach  of 
their  object,  and  as  suddenly  thrown  against  it,  so 
that  their  hands  and  faces  came  frequently  into  con- 
tact with  the  wet  paint,  and  gave  them  a  piebald 
appearance. 

For  some  time  Billy  contented  himself  with  look- 
ing on  and  chaffing  the  men,  diversifying  the  amuse- 
ment by  an  occasional  skirmish  with  Stanley,  who  had 
armed  himself  with  a  brush,  and  was  busy  helping. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          165 

"  It 's  raither  heavy  work,  sir,  to  do  all  the  judg- 
ment business  by  myself,"  he  said.  "  There 's  that 
feller  Shales,  as  don't  know  how  a  straight  line 
should  be  draw'd.  Couldn't  ye  lend  me  your  brush, 
Jack  ?  or  p'raps  Dick  Moy  will  lend  me  his  beard, 
as  he  don't  seem  to  be  usin'  it  just  now." 

"  Here,  Dick,"  cried  Stanley,  giving  up  his  brush, 
"  you  've  had  enough  of  the  holding- on  business ; 
come,  I  '11  relieve  you." 

"Ay,  that's  your  sort,"  said  Billy;  "muscle  to 
the  boat-'ook,  an'  brains  to  the  brush."  . 

"  Hold  on  tight,  sir,"  cried  Shales,  as  the  boat  gave 
a  heavy  lurch  away  from  the  buoy,  while  the  three 
painters  stood  leaning  as  far  over  the  gunwale  as 
was  consistent  with  safety,  and  stretching  their  arms 
and  brushes  towards  the  object  of  their  solicitude. 

Stanley  exerted  himself  powerfully ;  a  reactionary 
swell  helped  him  too  much,  and  next  moment  the 
three  men  went,  heads,  hands,  and  brushes,  plung- 
ing against  the  buoy ! 

"  Och  !  morther !"  cried  Jerry,  one  of  whose  black 
hands  had  been  forced  against  a  white  stripe,  and 
left  its  imprint  there.  "  Look  at  that,  now ! " 

"  All  right,"  cried  Shales,  dashing  a  streak  of 
white  over  the  spot. 

"  There  's  no  preventing  it,"  said  Stanley,  apolo- 
getically, yet  laughing  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  I  say,  Jack,  this  is  'igh  art,  this  is,"  observed 


166  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Moy,  as  he  drew  back  to  take  another  dip,  "  but  I  'ra 
free  to  confess  that  I  'd  raither  go  courtin'  the  girls 
than  painting  the  buoys." 

"  Oh !  Dick,  you  borrowed  that  from  me,"  cried 
Billy ;  "  for  shame,  sir ! " 

"  Well,  well,"  observed  Jerry,  "  it 's  many  a  time 
I  've  held  on  to  a  painter,  but  I  niver  thought  to  be- 
come wan.  What  would  ye  call  this  now — a  land- 
scape or  a  portrait  ? " 

"  I  would  call  it  a  marine  piece,"  said  Stanley. 

"  How  much,  sir  ?"  asked  Dick  Moy,  who  had  got 
upon  the  wooden  ring  of  the  buoy,  and  was  starTding 
thereon  attempting,  but  not  very  successfully,  to 
paint  in  that  position. 

"  A  mareeny-piece,  you  noodle,"  cried  Billy;  "don't 
ye  onderstand  the  genel'm'n  wot's  a  sittin'  on  judg- 
ment on  'ee  ?  A  mareeny-piece  is  a  piece  o'  mareeny 
or  striped  kaliko,  w'ich  is  all  the  same,  and  wery 
poor  stuff  it  is  too.  Come,  I  '11  stand  it  no  longer. 
I  hold  ye  in  sich  contempt  that  I  must  look  down 
on  'ee." 

So  saying,  the  active  little  fellow  seized  the  boat- 
hook,  and  swung  himself  lightly  on  the  buoy,  the 
top  of  which  he  gained  after  a  severe  scramble,  amid 
the  indignant  shouts  of  the  men. 

"  Well,  since  you  have  gone  up  there,  we  '11  keep 
you  there  till  we  are  done." 

"  All  right,  my  hearties,"  retorted  Billy,  in  great 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          167 

delight  and  excitement,  as  the  men  went  on  with 
their  work. 

Just  then  another  heave  of  the  swell  drew  the 
boat  away,  obliging  the  painters  to  lean  far  over  the 
side  as  before,  pointing  towards  their  "pictur,"  as 
Jerry  called  it,  but  unable  to  touch  it,  though  ex- 
pecting every  moment  to  swing  within  reach  again. 
Suddenly  Billy  Towler — while  engaged,  no  doubt, 
in  some  refined  piece  of  mischief — slipped  and  fell 
backwards  with  a  loud  cry.  His  head  struck  the 
side  of  the  boat  in  passing,  as  he  plunged  into  the  sea. 

"  Ah,  the  poor  craitur ! "  cried  Jerry  MacGowl, 
immediately  plunging  after  him. 

Now,  it  happened  that  Jerry  could  not  swim  a 
stroke,  but  his  liking  for  the  boy,  and  the  suddenness 
of  the  accident,  combined  with  his  reckless  disposi- 
tion, rendered  him  either  forgetful  of  or  oblivious  to 
that  fact.  Instead  of  doing  any  good,  therefore,  to 
Billy,  he  rendered  it  necessary  for  the  men  to  give 
their  undivided  attention  to  hauling  his  unwieldy 
carcase  into  the  boat. 

The  tide  was  running  strong  at  the  time.  Billy 
rose  to  the  surface,  but  showed  no  sign  of  life.  He 
was  sinking  again,  when  Stanley  Hall  plunged  into 
the  water  like  an  arrow,  and  caught  him  by  the  hair. 

Stanley  was  a  powerful  swimmer,  but  he  could 
make  no  headway  against  the  tide  that  was  running 
to  the  southward  at  the  time,  and  before  the  men 


168  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

had  succeeded  in  dragging  their  enthusiastic  but 
reckless  comrade  into  the  boat,  Billy  and  his  friend 
had  been  swept  to  a  considerable  distance.  As  soon 
as  the  oars  were  shipped,  however,  they  were  quickly 
overtaken  and  rescued. 

Stanley  was  none  the  worse  for  his  ducking,  but 
poor  Billy  was  unconscious,  and  had  a  large  cut  in 
his  head,  which  looked  serious.  When  he  was  taken 
on  board  the  tender,  and  restored  to  consciousness,  he 
was  incapable  of  talking  coherently.  In  this  state 
he  was  taken  back  to  Eamsgate  and  conveyed  to 
the  hospital. 

There,  in  a  small  bed,  the  small  boy  lay  for  many 
weeks,  with  ample  leisure  to  reflect  upon  the  im- 
propriety of  coupling  fun — which  is  right — with 
mischief — which  is  emphatically  wrong,  and  gener- 
ally leads  to  disaster.  But  Billy  could  not  reflect, 
because  he  had  received  a  slight  injury  to  the  brain, 
it  was  supposed,  which  confused  him  much,  and 
induced  him,  as  his  attentive  nurse  said,  to  talk 
"  nothing  but  nonsense." 

The  poor  boy's  recently-made  friends  paid  him  all 
the  attention  they  could,  but  rngst  of  them  had 
duties  to  attend  to  which  called  them  away,  so  that, 
ere  long,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  visit 
from  Mr.  Welton  of  the  Gull  light,  he  was  left 
entirely  to  the  care  of  the  nurses  and  house-surgeons, 
who  were  extremely  kind  to  him. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  169 

Mr.  Morley  Jones,  who.  might  have  been  expected 
to  take  an  interest  in  his  protegtf,  left  him  to  his  fate, 
after  having  ascertained  that  he  was  in  a  somewhat 
critical  condition,  and,  in  any  case,  not  likely  to  be 
abroad  again  for  many  weeks. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  who  found  out 
and  took  an  apparently  deep  interest  in  the  boy. 
This  was  a  stout,  hale  gentleman,  of  middle  age, 
with  a  bald  head,  a  stern  countenance,  and  keen 
grey  eyes.  He  came  to  the  hospital,  apparently  as 
a  philanthropic  visitor,  inquired  for  the  boy,  intro- 
duced himself  as  Mr.  Larks,  and,  sitting  down  at 
his  bedside,  sought  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the 
patient.  At  first  he  found  the  boy  in  a  condition 
which  induced  him  to  indulge  chiefly  in  talking 
nonsense,  but  Mr.  Larks  appeared  to  be  peculiarly 
interested  in  this  nonsense,  especially  when  it  had 
reference,  as  it  frequently  had,  to  a  man  named 
Jones  !  After  a  time,  when  Billy  became  sane  again, 
Mr.  Larks  pressed  him  to  converse  more  freely  about 
this  Mr.  Jones,  but  with  returning  health  came 
Billy's  sharp  wit  and  caution.  He  began  to  be  more 
circumspect  in  his  replies  to  Mr.  Larks,  and  to  put 
questions,  in  his  turn,  which  soon  induced  that 
gentleman  to  discontinue  his  visits,  so  that  Billy 
Towler  again  found  himself  in  what  might  with 
propriety  have  been  styled  his  normal  condition — 
absolutely  destitute  of  friends. 


170  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

But  Billy  was  not  so  destitute  as  he  supposed 
himself  to  be — as  we  shall  see. 

Meanwhile  Morley  Jones  went  about  his  special 
business.  He  reported  the  loss  of  the  sloop  Nora;  had 
it  advertised  in  the  Gazette;  took  the  necessary  steps 
to  prove  the  fact;  called  at  the  office  of  the  Submarine 
Insurance  Company,  and  at  the  end  of  three  weeks 
walked  away,  chuckling,  with  £300  hi  his  pocket ! 

In  the  satisfaction  which  the  siiccess  of  this  piece 
of  business  induced,  he  opened  his  heart  and  rnind 
pretty  freely  to  his  daughter  Nora,  and  revealed  not 
only  the  fact  of  Billy  Towler's  illness,  but  the  place 
where  he  then  lay.  Until  the  money  had  been 
secured  he  had  kept  this  a  secret  from  her,  and  had 
sent  Jim  Welton  on  special  business  to  Gravesend 
in  order  that  he  might  be  out  of  the  way  for  a  time, 
but,  the  motive  being  past,  he  made  no  more  secret 
of  the  matter. 

Nora,  who  had  become  deeply  interested  in  the 
boy,  resolved  to  have  him  brought  up  from  Eams- 
gate  to  Yarmouth  by  means  of  love,  not  being  pos- 
sessed of  money.  The  moment,  therefore,  that  Jim 
Welton  returned,  she  issued  her  commands  that  he 
should  go  straight  off  to  Eamsgate,  find  the  boy, 
and,  by  hook  or  crook,  bring  him  to  the  "  Garden  of 
Eden,"  on  pain  of  her  utmost  displeasure. 

"  But  the  thing  an't  possible,"  said  Jim.  "  I 
haven't  got  money  enough  to  do  it." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  171 

"  Then  you  must  find  money  somehow,  or  make 
it,"  said  Nora,  firmly.  "That  dear  boy  must  be 
saved.  When  he  was  stopping  here  I  wormed  all 
his  secrets  out  of  his  little  heart,  bless  it— 

"  I  don't  wonder  !"  interrupted  Jim,  with  a  look  of 
admiration. 

"  And  what  do  you  think  ? "  continued  the  girl, 
not  noticing  the  interruption,  "  he  confessed  to  me 
that  he  had  been  a  regular  London  thief !  Now  I 
am  quite  sure  that  God  will  enable  me  to  win  him 
back,  if  I  get  him  here — for  I  know  that  he  is  fond 
of  me — and  I  am  equally  sure  that  he  will  be  lost  if 
he  is  again  cast  loose  on  the  world." 

"  God  bless  you,  Nora ;  I  '11  do  my  best  to  fetch 
him  to  'ee,  even  if  I  should  have  to  walk  to  Kanis- 
gate  and  carry  him  here  on  my  shoulders  ;  but  don't 
you  think  it  would  be  as  well  also  to  keep  him — 
forgive  me,  dear  Nora,  I  must  say  it — to  keep  him 
out  of  your  father's  way  ?  He  might  teach  him  to 
drink,  you  know,  if  he  taught  him  no  worse,  and 
that 's  bad  enough." 

Nora's  face  grew  pale  as  she  said — 

"  Oh,  Jim,  are  you  sure  there  is  nothing  worse 
that  he  is  likely  to  teach  him  ?  My  father  has  a 
great  deal  of  money  just  now,  I — I  hope  that— 

"  Why,  Nora,  you  need  not  think  he  stole  it,"  said 
Jim  hurriedly,  and  with  a  somewhat  confused  look ; 
"  he  got  it  in  the  regular  way  from  the  Insurance 


172  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Company,  and  I  couldn't  say  that  there 's  anything 
absolutely  wrong  in  the  business ;  but — " 

The  young  sailor  stopped  short  and  sighed  deeply. 

Nora's  countenance  became  still  more  pale,  and 
she  cast  down  her  eyes,  but  spoke  not  a  word  for 
some  moments. 

"  You  must  bring  the  boy  to  me,  Jim,"  she  resumed, 
with  a  sudden  start.  "  He  may  be  in  danger  here, 
but  there  is  almost  certain  ruin  before  him  if  he  is 
left  to  fall  back  into  his  old  way  of  life." 

We  need  not  trouble  the  reader  with  a  detailed 
account  of  the  means  by  which  Jim  Welton  accom- 
plished his  object.  Love  prevailed — as  it  always 
did,  always  does,  and  always  will — and  ere  many 
days  had  passed  Billy  Towler  was  once  more  a 
member  of  the  drunkard's  family,  with  the  sweet 
presence  of  Nora  ever  near  him,  like  an  angel's  wing 
overshadowing  and  protecting  him  from  evil. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         173 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

THE  iNCIENT  CORPORATION  OF  TRINITT  HOUSE  OF  DEPTFORD  STROM). 

As  landmarks — because  of  their  affording  variety, 
among  other  reasons — are  pleasant  objects  of  con- 
templation to  the  weary  traveller  on  a  long  and 
dusty  road,  so  landmarks  in  a  tale  are  useful  as 
resting-places.  We  purpose,  therefore,  to  relieve  the 
reader,  for  a  very  brief  period,  from  the  strain  of 
mingled  fact  and  fiction  in  which  we  have  hitherto 
indulged — turn  into  a  siding,  as  it  were — and,  before 
getting  on  the  main  line  again,  devote  a  short 
chapter  to  pure  and  unmitigated  fact. 

So  much  has  been  said  in  previous  chapters,  and 
so  much  has  yet  to  be  said,  about  the  lights,  and 
buoys,  and  beacons  which  guard  the  shores  of  Old 
England,  that  it  would  be  unpardonable  as  well  as 
ungracious  were  we  to  omit  making  special  refer- 
ence to  the  ancient  CORPORATION  OF  TRINITY  HOUSE 
OF  DEPTFORD  STROND,  under  the  able  management 
of  which  the  whole  of  the  important  work  has  been 


174:  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

devised  and  carried  into  operation,  and  is  now  most 
efficiently  maintained. 

It  cannot  be  too  urgently  pressed  upon  un-nautical 
— especially  young — readers,  that  the  work  which 
this  Corporation  does,  and  the  duties  which  it  per- 
forms, constitute  what  we  may  term  vital  service. 

It  would  be  too  much,  perhaps,  to  say  that  the 
life  of  the  nation  depends  on  the  faithful  and  wise 
conduct  of  that  service,  but  assuredly  our  national 
prosperity  is  intimately  bound  up  with  it.  The 
annual  list  of  ships  wrecked  and  lives  lost  on  the 
shores  of  the  kingdom  is  appalling  enough  already, 
as  every  observant  reader  of  the  newspapers  must 
know,  but  if  the  work  of  the  Trinity  House — the 
labours  of  the  Elder  Brethren — were  suspended  for 
a  single  year — if  the  lights,  fixed  and  floating,  were 
extinguished,  and  the  buoys  and  beacons  removed, 
the  writer  could  not  express,  nor  could  the  reader 
conceive,  the  awful  crash  of  ruin,  and  the  terrific  cry 
of  anguish  that  would  sweep  over  the  land  from  end 
to  end,  like  the  besom  of  destruction. 

We  leave  to  hard-headed  politicians  to  say  what, 
or  whether,  improvements  of  any  kind  might  be 
made  in  connection  with  the  Trinity  Corporation. 
We  do  not  pretend  to  be  competent  to  judge  whether 
or  not  that  work  might  be  better  done.  All  that  we 
pretend  to  is  a  certain  amount  of  competency  to  judge, 
and  right  to  assert,  that  it  is  icdl  clone,  and  one  of 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          175 

• 

the  easiest  ways  to  assure  one's-self  of  that  fact  is,  to 
go  visit  the  lighthouses  and  light- vessels  on  the  coast, 
and  note  their  perfect  management;  the  splendid 
adaptation  of  scientific  discoveries  to  the  ends  they 
are  designed  to  serve ;  the  thoroughness,  the  cleanli- 
ness, the  beauty  of  everything  connected  with  •  the 
materiel  employed;  the  massive  solidity  and  ap- 
parent indestructibility  of  the  various  structures 
erected  and  afloat ;  the  method  everywhere  observ- 
able; the  perfect  organization  and  the  steady  re- 
spectability of  the  light-keepers — observe  and  note 
all  these  things,  we  say,  and  it  will  be  impossible  to 
return  from  the  investigation  without  a  feeling  that 
the  management  of  this  department  of  our  coast 
service  is  in  pre-eminently  able  hands. 

Nor  is  this  to  be  wondered  at,  when  we  reflect 
that  the  Corporation  of  Trinity  House  is  composed 
chiefly  (the  acting  part  of  it  entirely)  of  nautical 
men — men  who  have  spent  their  youth  and  man- 
hood on* the  sea,  and  have  had  constantly  to  watch 
and  guard  against  those  very  rocks  and  shoals,  and 
traverse  those  channels  which  it  is  now  their  duty 
to  light  arid  buoy.* 

It  has  been  sagely  remarked  by  some  philosopher, 

*  The  service  which  the  Corporation  of  Trinity  House  renders  to 
the  coasts  of  England,  is  rendered  to  those  of  Scotland  by  the  Com- 
missioners of  Northern  Lights,  and  to  those  of  Ireland  by  the  Com- 
missioners of  Irish  Lights— both,  to  some  extent,  under  the  supervision, 
oi  the  Trinity  House. 


176  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

we  believe — at  least  it  might  have  been  if  it  has  not 
— that  everything  must  have  a  beginning.  We 
agree  with  the  proposition,  and  therefore  conclude 
that  the  Corporation  of  Trinity  House  must  have 
had  a  beginning,  but  that  beginning  would  appear 
to  be  involved  in  those  celebrated  "mists  of  anti- 
quity "  which  unhappily  obscure  so  much  that  men 
would  give  their  ears  to  know  now-a-days. 

Fire — which  has  probably  been  the  cause  of  more 
destruction  and  confusion  than  all  of  the  other 
elements  put  together — was  the  cause  of  the  difficulty 
that  now  exists  in  tracing  thisfincient  Corporation  to 
its  origin,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  quota- 
tion from  a  little  "  Memoir,  drawn  up  the  present 
Deputy-Master,  and  printed  for  private  distribu- 
tion," which  was  kindly  lent  to  us  by  the  present 
secretary  of  the  House,  and  from  which  most  of 
our  information  has  been  derived. 

"  The  printed  information  hitherto  extant  [in 
regard  to  the  Corporation  of  Trinity  House]  is 
limited  to  the  charter  of  confirmation  granted  by 
James  n.  (with  the  minor  concession,  by  Charles  II., 
of  Thames  Ballastage)  and  a  compilation  from  the 
records  of  the  Corporation  down  to  1746,  by  its 
then  secretary,  Mr.  Whormby,  supplemented  by  a 
memoir  drawn  up,  in  1822,  by  Captain  Joseph 
Cotton,  then  Deputy-master.  But  the  data  of  these 
latter  are  necessarily  imperfect,  as  the  destruction 


OF  T11E  GOODWIN  SANDS.  177 

"by  fire,  in  1714,  of  tlie  house  in  Water  Lane  had 
already  involved  a  disastrous  loss  of  documentary 
evidence,  leaving  much  to  be  inferentially  traced 
from  collateral  records  of  Admiralty  and  Navy 
Boards.  These,  however,  sufficiently  attest  admini- 
strative powers  and  protective  influence  scarcely 
inferior  to  the  scope  of  those  departments." 

More  than  a  hundred  years  before  the  date  of  its 
original  charter  (1514)  the  Corporation  existed  in 
the  form  of  a  voluntary  association  of  the  "  shipmen 
and  mariners  of  England,"  to  which  reference  is 
made  in  the  charter  as  being  an  influential  body  of 
long  standing  even  at  that  time,  which  protected 
maritime  interests,  and  relieved  the  aged  and  indi- 
gent among  the  seafaring  community,  for  which 
latter  purpose  they  had  erected  an  almshouse  at 
Deptford,  in  Kent,  where  also  were  their  head- 
quarters. This  society  had  inspired  confidence  and 
acquired  authority  to  establish  regulations  for  the 
navigation  of  ships  and  the  government  of  seamen, 
which,  by  general  consent,  had  been  adopted  through- 
out the  service.  It  was,  therefore,  of  tested  and 
approved  capacity,  which  at  length  resulted  in  the 
granting  to  it  of  a  charter  by  Henry  vni.  in  1514. 

From  this  date  the  history  proper  of  the  Corpora- 
tion of  Trinity  House  of  Deptford  Strond  .begins. 
In  the  charter  referred  to  it  is  first  so  named,  and 
is  described  as  "  The  Guild  or  Fraternity  of  the  most 

M 


178  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

glorious  and  undividable  Trinity  of  St.  Clement." 
The  subsequent  charter  of  James  I.,  and  all  later 
charters,  are  granted  to  "  The  Master,  Wardens,  and 
Assistants  of  the  Guild,  Fraternity,  or  Brotherhood 
of  the  most  glorious  and  undivided  Trinity,  and  of 
St.  Clement,  in  the  parish  of  Deptford,  in  the  county 
of  Kent."  The  grant  of  Arms  to  the  Corporation 
is  dated  1573,  and  includes  the  motto,  Trinitas  in 
Unitate. 

No  reason  can  now  be  assigned  for  the  application 
of  its  distinctive  title.  The  mere  fact  that  the  con- 
stitution of  the  guild  included  provision  for  the 
maintenance  of  a  chaplain,  and  for  the  conduct  of 
divine  service  in  the  parish  church,  is  not,  we  think, 
sufficient  to  account  for  it. 

In  the  house  or  hall  at  Deptford,  adjoining  the 
almshouses,  the  business  of  the  Corporation  was  first 
conducted.  Afterwards,  for  the  sake  of  convenient 
intercourse  with  shipowners  and  others,  in  a  house 
in  Batcliffe ;  next  at  Stepney,  and  then  in  Water 
Lane,  Tower  Street.  The  tenement  there  falling  into 
decay — after  having  been  twice  burnt  and  restored 
— was  forsaken,  and  an  estate  was  purchased  on 
Tower  Hill,  on  which  the  present  Trinity  House  was 
built,  from  designs  by  Wyatt,  in  1798. 

A  good  idea  of  the  relative  antiquity  of  the  Cor- 
poration may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  about 
the  year  1520 — six  years  after  the  date  of  the  first 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  1 79 

charter — the  formation  of  the  Admiralty  and  Navy 
Boards  was  begun,  and  "  on  the  consequent  estab- 
lishment of  dockyards  and  arsenals,  the  Deptford 
building-yard  was  confided  to  the  direction  of  the 
Trinity  House,  together  with  the  superintendence  of 
all  navy  stores  and  provisions.  So  closely,  indeed, 
were  the  services  related,  that  the  first  Master  of  the 
Corporation,  under  the  charter,  was  Sir  Thomas 
Spert,  commander  of  the  ( Henry  Grace-a-Dieu,' 
(our  first  man-of-war),  and  sometime  Controller  of 
the  Navy.  The  Corporation  thus  became,  as  it 
were,  the  civil  branch  of  the  English  Maritime 
Service,  with  a  naval  element  which  it  preserves  to 
this  day." 

Government  records  show  that  the  Trinity  Brethren 
exercised  considerable  powers,  at  an  early  period,  in 
manning  and  outfitting  the  navy ;  that  they  reported 
on  ships  to  be  purchased,  regulated  the  dimensions 
of  those  to  be  built,  and  determined  the  proper  com- 
plement of  sailors  for  each,  as  well  as  the  armament 
and  stores.  Besides  performing  its  peaceful  duties, 
the  Corporation  was  bound  to  render  service  at  sea  if 
required,  but,  in  consideration  of  such  liability,  the 
Brethren  and  their  subordinates  were  exempted  from 
land  service  of  every  kind.  They  have  been  fre- 
quently called  upon  to  render  service  afloat,  "  and 
notably  upon  two  occasions — during  the  mutiny  at 
the  Nore  in  1797,  when  the  Elder  Brethren,  almost 


180  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

in  view  of  the  mutinous  fleet,  removed  or  destroyed 
every  beacon  and  buoy  that  could  guide  its  passage 
out  to  sea;  and  again  in  1803,  when  a  French  inva- 
sion was  imminent,  they  undertook  and  carried  out 
the  defences  of  the  entrance  to  the  Thames  by  man- 
ning and  personally  officering  a  cordon  of  fully-  armed 
ships,  moored  across  the  river  below  Gravesend,  with 
an  adequate  force  of  trustworthy  seamen,  for  destruc- 
tion, if  necessary,  of  all  channel  marks  that  might 
guide  an  approaching  enemy." 

We  cannot  afford  space  to  enter  fully  into  the 
history  of  the  Trinity  Corporation.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  it  has  naturally  been  the  object  of  a  good  deal 
of  jealousy,  and  has  undergone  many  searching 
investigations,  from  all  of  which  it  has  emerged 
triumphantly.  Its  usefulness  having  steadily  ad- 
vanced with  all  its  opportunities  for  extension,  it 
received  in  1836  "the  culminating  recognition  of  an 
Act  of  Parliament,  empowering  its  executive  to  pur- 
chase of  the  Crown,  and  to  redeem  from  private  pro- 
prietors, their  interests  in  all  the  coast-lights  of 
England,  thus  bringing  all  within  its  own  control. 
By  Crown  patents,  granted  from  time  to  time,  the 
Corporation  was  enabled  to  raise,  through  levy  of 
tolls,  the  funds  necessary  for  erection  and  maintenance 
of  these  national  blessings ;  .  .  .  and  all  surplus  of 
revenue  over  expenditure  was  applied  to  the  relief 
of  indigent  and  aged  mariners,  their  wives,  widows, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          181 

and  orphans."  About  1853,  the  allowance  to  out- 
pensioners  alone  amounted  to  upwards  of  £30,000  per 
annum,  and  nearly  half  as  much  more  of  income, 
derived  from  property  held  in  trust  for  charitable 
purposes,  was  applied  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
almshouses  at  Deptford  and  Mile-end,  and  to  other 
charitable  uses  for  the  benefit  of  the  maritime 
community. 

The  court  or  governing  body  of  the  Corporation 
is  now  composed  of  thirty-one  members,  namely,  the 
Master,  four  Wardens,  eight  Assistants,  and  eighteen 
Elder  Brethren.  The  latter  are  elected  out  of  those 
of  the  class  of  younger  Brethren  who  volunteer,  and 
are  approved  as  candidates  for  the  office.  Eleven 
members  of  this  court  of  thirty- one  are  men  of  dis- 
tinction— members  of  the  Eoyal  Family,  Ministers 
of  State,  naval  officers  of  high  rank,  and  the  like. 
The  remainder — called  Acting  Brethren — are  chiefly 
officers  of  the  mercantile  marine,  with  a  very  few — 
usually  three — officers  of  Her  Majesty's  navy.  .The 
younger  Brethren — whose  number  is  unlimited — 
are  admissible  at  the  pleasure  of  the  court.  They 
have  no  share  in  the  management,  but  are  entitled 
to  vote  in  the  election  of  Master  and  Wardens. 

The  duties  of  the  Corporation,  as  described  in  their 
charters  generally,  were  to  "  treat  and  conclude  upon 
all  and  singular  articles  anywise  concerning  the 
science  or  art  of  mariners."  A  pretty  wide  and  some- 


182  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT    ' 

what  indefinite  range  !  At  the  present  time  these 
duties  are,  as  follows  : — 

To  maintain  in  perfect  working  order  all  the  light- 
houses, floating  lights,  and  fog- signal  stations  on  the 
coasts  of  England ;  and  to  lay  down,  maintain, 
renew,  and  modify  all  the  buoys,  beacons,  and  sea- 
signals;  to  regulate  the  supply  of  stores,  the  appoint- 
ment of  keepers,  and  constantly  to  inspect  the 
stations — a  service  which  entails  unremitting  atten- 
tion upon  the  members,  some  of  whom  are  always 
on  duty,  either  afloat  in  the  steam  -vessels  or  on  land 
journeys. 

To  examine  and  license  pilots  for  a  large  portion 
of  our  coasts ;  and  to  investigate  generally  into  all 
matters  relative  to  pilotage. 

To  act  as  nautical  advisers  with  the  Judge  of  the 
High  Court  of  Admiralty,  a  duty  which  frequently 
engages  some  of  the  Brethren  for  considerable  periods 
of  time  oil  intricate  causes  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance. 

To  survey  and  inspect  the  channels  of  the  Thames 
and  the  shoals  of  the  North  Sea,  and  other  points  of 
the  coast  at  which  shifting,  scouring,  growth  or 
waste  of  sand  may  affect  the  navigation,  and  require 
to  be  watched  and  notified. 

To  supply  shrpping  in  the  Thames  with  ballast. 

The  Elder  Brethren  have  also  to  perform  the 
duty  of  attending  the  Sovereign  on  sea- voyages. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          183 

• 

In  addition  to  all  t^is,  it  has  to  superintend  the 
distribution  of  its  extensive  charities,  founded  on 
various  munificent  gifts  and  legacies,  nearly  all  given 
or  left  for  the  benefit  of  "  poor  Jack  "  and  his  rela- 
tives ;  and  to  manage  the  almshouses  ;  also  the  affairs 
of  the  House  on  Tower  Hill,  and  the  engineering 
department,  with  its  superintendence  of  new  wrorks, 
plans,  drawings,  lanterns,  optical  apparatus,  etc. — the 
whole  involving,  as  will  be  obvious  to  men  who  are 
acquainted  with  "  business,"  a  mass  of  detail  which 
must  be  almost  as  varied  as  it  is  enormous. 

The  good  influence  of  the  operations  of  the  Trinity 
House  might  be  shown  by  many  interesting  instances. 
Here  is  one  specimen ;  it  has  reference  to  ballast- 
heaving  : — 

"Formerly  the  ballast,  when  laid  in  barge  or 
lighter  alongside  the  ship  to  be  supplied,  was  heaved 
on  board  by  men  who  were  hired  and  paid  by  vari- 
ous waterside  contractors,  and  subjected  to  great 
hardships,  not  only  from  the  greed  of  their  employers, 
but  from  a  demoralizing  system  of  payment  through 
publicans  and  local  harpies.  These  evils  were  alto- 
gether removed  by  the  establishment  of  a  Heavers' 
Office  under  control  of  the  Trinity  House,  where 
men  could  attend  for  employment,  and  where  their 
wages  could  be  paid  with  regularity,  and  free  from 
extortionate  deduction." 

Many  more  examples  might  be   given,  but  were 


184  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

we  to  indulge  in  this  strain  our  chapter  would  far 
exceed  its  proper  limits. 

The  light-vessels  belonging  to  the  Corporation  are 
43  in  numher :  38  in  position  and  5  in  reserve  to 
meet  casualties.*  Of  lighthouses  there  are  76 ;  sixty- 
one  of  which,  built  of  brick,  stone,  or  timber,  are  on 
shore ;  eleven,  of  granite,  are  on  outlying  rocks  ;  and 
four,  on  iron  piles,  are  on  sandbanks.  There  are  452 
buoys  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  on  the  coast,  and  half 
as  many  more  in  reserve,  besides  about  60  beacons  of 
various  kinds,  and  21  storehouses  in  connection  with 
them.  Also  6  steam- vessels  and  7  sailing  tenders 
maintained  for  effecting  the  periodical  relief  of  crews 
and  keepers,  shifting  and  laying  buoys,  etc. 

The  working  staff  which  keeps  the  whole  complex 
machinery  in  order,  consists  of  7  district  superin- 
tendents, 11  local  agents,  8  buoy- keepers,  21  store- 
keepers, watchmen,  etc. ;  177  lighthouse-keepers, 
427  crews  of  floating  lights,  143  crews  of  steam  and 
sailing  vessels,  and  6  fog- signal  attendants — a  total 
of  800  men. 

Among  the  great  and  royal  personages  who  have 

*  The  floating  lights  of  England  are  illuminated  by  means  of  lamps 
with  metallic  reflectors,  on  what  is  styled  the  catoptric  system.  The 
dioptric  system,  in  which  the  rays  of  light  are  transmitted  through 
glass,  has  been  introduced  into  the  floating  lights  of  India  by  the 
Messrs.  Stevenson,  C.E.,  of  Edinburgh.  The  first  floating  light  on  this 
system  in  India  was  shown  on  the  Hoogly  in  1865.  Since  then,  seve- 
ral move  dioptric  lights  have  been  sent  to  the  same  region,  and  also  to 
Japan  in  1869,  and  all  reports  agree  in  describing  these  lights  as  being 
eminently  successful. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  185 

filled  the  office  of  Master  of  the  Corporation  of 
Trinity  House,  we  find,  besides  a  goodly  list  of  dukes 
and  earls — the  names  of  (in  1837)  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  (1852)  H.E.H.  Prince  Albert,  (1862) 
Viscount  Palmerston,  and  (1866)  H.RH.  the  Duke 
of  Edinburgh.  The  last  still  holds  office,  and  H.RH. 
the  Prince  of  Wales  heads  the  list  of  a  long  roll 
of  titled  and  celebrated  honorary  Brethren  of  the 
Corporation. 

We  make  no  apology  for  the  interpolation  of  this 
chapter,  because  if  the  reader  has  skipped  it  no 
apology  is  due,  and  if  he  has  not  skipped  it,  we 
are  confident  that  no  apology  will  be  required. 


186  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   XII. 

STRANGE  SIGHTS  AND  SCENES  ON  LAND  AND  SEA. 

THE  river  Hoogly.  Off  Calcutta.  Tropical  vege- 
tation on  the  shore.  Glittering  sunshine  on  the 
water.  Blue  sky  and  fleecy  clouds  overhead. 
Equally  blue  sky  and  fleecy  clouds  down  below. 
A  world  of  sky  and  water,  with  ships  and  boats, 
resting  on  their  own  inverted  images,  in  the  midst. 
Sweltering  heat  everywhere.  Black  men  revelling 
in  the  sunshine.  White  men  melting  in  the  shade. 
The  general  impression  such,  that  one  might  almost 
entertain  the  belief  that  the  world  has  become 
white-hot,  and  the  end  of  time  is  about  to  be 
ushered  in  with  a  general  conflagration. 

Such  is  the  scene,  reader,  to  which  we  purpose  to 
convey  you. 

The  day  was  yet  young  when  a  large  vessel  shook 
out  her  topsails,  and  made  other  nautical  demon- 
strations of  an  intention  to  quit  the  solid  land  ere 
long,  and  escape  if  possible  from  the  threatened 
conflagration. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          187 

"  I  wonder  when  thoge  brutes  will  be  sent  off," 
said  the  first  mate  of  the  ship  to  the  surgeon,  who 
stood  on  the  poop  beside  him. 

""What  brutes  do  you  refer  to?"  asked  the  sur- 
geon, who  was  no  other  than  our  young  friend 
Stanley  HalL 

"  Why,  the  wild  beasts,  to  be  sure.  Have  you 
not  heard  that  we  are  to  have  as  passengers  on  the 
voyage  home  two  leopards,  an  elephant,  and  a  rhino- 
ceros ?" 

"  Pleasant  company  !  I  wonder  what  Neptune 
will  say  to  that?"  said  Stanley,  with  a  laugh,  as  he 
walked  forward  to  ask  the  opinion  of  the  owner  of 
the  said  Neptune.  "  I  say,  Welton,  we  are  to  have 
an  elephant,  a  rhinoceros,  and  two  leopards,  on  this 
voyage." 

"  Indeed  ?" 

"  Yes,  what  will  Neptune  say  to  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  won't  mind,  sir,"  replied  Jim,  patting 
the  head  of  the  large  Newfoundland  dog  with  grey 
paws  which  stood  beside  him. 

Jim  and  Stanley  had  taken  a  fancy  to  each  other 
when  on  board  the  Nora.  The  former  had  carried 
out  a  plan  of  going  to  sea,  in  order  to  be  out  of 
the  way  if  he  should  happen  to  be  wanted  as  a 
witness  at  the  trial  of  Morley  Jones,  which  event 
he  felt  certain  must  take  place  soon.  He  had  made 
application  to  Stanley,  who  spoke  to  Mr.  Durant 


188  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

about  him, — the  result  being  that  Jim  obtained  a 
berth  on  board  the  ship  Wellington,  which  stood 
A 1  at  Lloyds.  Hence  we  find  him  in  the  Hoogly. 

"  Neptune  is  a  wise  dog,  sir,"  continued  Jim ;  "  he 
don't  feel  much  put  out  by  curious  company,  and  is 
first-rate  at  taking  care  of  himself.  Besides,  there 
is  no  jealousy  in  his  nature.  I  suppose  he  feels  that 
nobody  can  cut  him  out  when  he  has  once  fairly 
established  a  friendship.  I  don't  grudge  the  dive 
off  the  bulwarks  of  the  old  Gull,  when  I  saved  Nep- 
tune, I  assure  you." 

"  He  was  worth  saving,"  remarked  Stanley,  stoop- 
ing to  pat  the  meek  head  of  the  dog. 

"  Yes,  I  heard  last  night  of  the  expected  passen- 
gers," pursued  Jim,  "  and  am  now  rigging  up  tackle 
to  hoist  'em  on  board.  I  meant  to  have  told  you  of 
'em -last  night,  but  we  got  into  that  stiff  argument 
about  teetotalism,  which  put  it  completely  out  of 
my  head." 

"Ah,  Welton,  you'll  never  convince  me  that 
teetotalism  is  right,"  said  Stanley,  with  a  good- 
humoured  laugh.  "  Not  that  I  care  much  about 
wine  or  spirits  myself,  but  as  long  as  a  man  uses 
them  in  moderation  they  can  do  him  no  harm." 

"So  I  thought  once,  sir,"  returned  Jim,  "but  I 
have  seen  cause  to  change  my  mind.  A  healthy 
man  can't  use  them  in  moderation,  because  use  is 
abuse.  Stimulants  are  only  fit  for  weaklings  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         189 

sick  folk.  As  well  might  a  stout  man  use  crutches 
to  help  him  to  walk,  as  beer  or  brandy  to  help  him 
to  work ;  yet  there  are  some  strong  young  men  so 
helpless  that  they  can't  get  on  at  all  without  their 
beer  or  grog !" 

"  Come,  I  '11  join  issue  with  you  on  that  point," 
said  Stanley,  eagerly,  for  he  was  very  fond  of  an 
argument  with  Jim,  who  never  lost  his  temper,  and 
who  always  paid  his  opponent  the  compliment  of 
listening  attentively  to  what  he  had  to  say. 

"Not  just  now,"  replied  Jim,  pointing  towards 
the  shore ;  "  for  yonder  comes  a  boat  with  some  of 
the  passengers  we  were  talking  of." 

"  Is  that  tackle  rigged,  "VYelton?"  shouted  the  mate. 

"  It  is,  sir,"  replied  Jim. 

"Then  stand  by,  some  of  you,  to  hoist  these 
leopards  aboard." 

When  the  little  boat  or  dmgy  came  alongside,  it 
was  observed  that  the  animals  were  confined  in  a 
large  wooden  cage,  through  the  bars  of  which  they 
glared  savagely  at  the  half-dozen  black  fellows  who 
conveyed  them  away  from  their  native  land.  They 
seemed  to  be  uncommonly  irate.  Perhaps  the  in- 
justice done  them  in  thus  removing  them  against 
their  will  had  something  to  do  with  it.  Possibly 
the  motion  of  the  boat  had  deranged  their  systems. 
"Whatever  the  cause,  they 'glared  and  growled  tre- 
mendously. 


190  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Are  you  sure  that  cage  is  strong  enough  ?"  asked 
the  mate,  casting  a  dubious  look  over  the  side. 

"  Oh  yes,  massa — plenty  strong.  Hould  a  Bengal 
tiger,"  said  one  of  the  black  fellows,  looking  up  with 
a  grin  which  displayed  a  splendid  double  row  of 
glittering  teeth. 

"  Very  well,  get  the  slings  on,  Welton,  and  look 
sharp,  bo's'n,  for  more  company  of  the  same  kind  is 
expected,"  said  the  mate. 

The  bo's'n — a  broad,  short,  burly  man,  as  a  boat- 
swain always  is  and  always  ought  to  be,  with,  of 
course,  a  terrific  bass  voice,  a  body  outrageously 
long,  and  legs  ridiculously  short — replied,  "  Ay,  ay, 
sir,"  and  gave  some  directions  to  his  mates,  who 
stood  by  the  hoisting  tackles. 

At  the  first  hoist  the  appearance  of  the  cage  justi- 
fied the  mate's  suspicions,  for  the  slings  bent  it  in  so 
much  that  some  of  the  bars  dropped  out. 

"  Avast  heaving,"  roared  the  boatswain.    "  Lower !" 

Down  went  the  cage  into  the  dingy.  The  bars 
were  promptly  replaced,  and  the  slings  fastened  in 
better  position. 

"  Try  it  again,  bo's'n,"  said  the  mate. 

The  order  to  hoist  was  repeated,  and  up  went  the 
cage  a  second  time,  but  it  bent  as  before,  so  that 
several  bars  again  slipped  out,  leaving  the  leopards 
sufficient  space  to  jump  through  if  they  chose. 

"  Lower !"  yelled  the  mate. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          191 

The  men  obeyed  promptly — rather  too  promptly  ! 
The  cage  went  down  by  the  run  into  the  boat,  and 
with  a  crash  fell  asunder. 

"  Cut  the  rope  !"  cried  the  mate. 

Jim  Welton  jumped  into  the  chains,  cut  the  painter, 
and  the  boat  was  swept  away  by  the  tide,  which  was 
running  strong  past  the  ship.  At  the  same  moment 
the  black  fellows  went  over  the  sides  into  the  water 
like  six  black  eels  radiating  from  a  centre,  and  away 
went  the  dingy  with  the  leopards  in  possession, 
mounted  on  the  debris  of  their  prison,  lashing  their 
sides  with  their  tails,  and  looking  round  in  proud 
defiance  of  all  mankind ! 

The  crew  of  the  boat,  each  of  whom  could  swim 
like  a  frog,  were  soon  picked  up.  Meanwhile,  all  on 
board  the  Wellington  who  had  telescopes  applied  them 
to  their  eyes,  and  watched  the  progress  of  the  dingy. 

It  chanced  that  the  current  set  with  considerable 
force  towards  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  where 
lay  an  island  on  which  was  a  public  garden.  There 
ladies  and  gentlemen  in  gay  costume,  as  well  as 
many  natives  and  children,  were  promenading  the 
shady  walks,  chatting  pleasantly,  listening  to  the 
sweet  strains  of  music,  enjoying  the  fragrance  of 
scented  flowers,  with  the  jungle  and  its  inhabitants 
very  far  indeed  from  their  thoughts — except,  per- 
chance, in  the  case  of  a  group  surrounding  a  young 
officer,  who  was,  no  doubt,  recounting  the  manner  in 


192  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

which  he  had  potted  a  tiger  on  the  occasion  of  his 
last  day  out  with  the  Rajah  of  Bangalore,  or  some 
such  dignitary ! 

Straight  to  the  shores  of  this  Eden -like  spot  the 
dingy  drifted,  and  quietly  did  the  leopards  abide 
the  result — so  also  did  the  deeply  interested  crew  of 
the  Wellington,  who,  of  course,  were  quite  unable  to 
give  any  note  of  warning. 

The  little  boat  was  seen  to  touch  the  shore,  and 
the  leopards  were  observed  to  land  leisurely  without 
opposition  from  the  enemy.  Immediately  after, 
something  resembling  a  sensation  was  apparent  in 
the  garden.  The  distance  was  too  great  to  permit 
of  sound  travelling  to  the  observers,  but  it  lent 
enchantment  to  the  view  to  the  extent  of  rendering 
the  human  beings  there  like  moving  flowers  of 
varied  hue.  Presently  there  was  a  motion,  as  if  a 
tornado  had  suddenly  burst  upon  the  flower-beds 
and  scattered  them  right  and  left  in  dire  confusion 
— not  a  few  appearing  to  have  been  blown  up  into 
the  trees ! 

That  same  day  the  crack  shots  and  sportsmen  of 
Calcutta  went  down  to  the  usually  peaceful  islet 
and  engaged  in  all  the  wild  work  of  a  regular  hunt, 
and  at  eve  the  two  leopards  were  seen,  by  interested 
observers  in  the  Wellington,  being  conveyed  away 
in  triumph  on  a  litter. 

But,  long  before  this  happy  consummation  of  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          193 

day's  sport  in  the  garden,  the  remainder  of  the 
expected  company  had  arrived  alongside  the  Wel- 
lington, and  the  undaunted  bo's'n — who  declared 
himself  ready  on  the  shortest  notice  to  hoist  any 
living  creature  on  board,  from  a  sperm  whale  to  a 
megatherium — tackled  the  elephant.  The  ponderous 
brute  allowed  itself  to  be  manipulated  with  the 
utmost  good-humour,  and  when  carefully  lowered  on 
the  deck  it  alighted  with  as  much  softness  as  if  it 
had  been  shod  with  India-rubber,  and  walked  quietly 
forward,  casting  a  leer  out  of  its  small  eyes  at  the 
mate,  as  if  it  were  aware  of  its  powers,  but  magnani- 
mously forbore  to  use  them  to  the  disadvantage  of 
its  human  masters.  In  passing  it  knocked  off  the 
bo's'n's  hat,  but  whether  this  was  done  by  accident 
or  design  has  never  been  ascertained.  At  all  events 
the  creature  made  no  apology. 

If  this  passenger  was  easy-going  and  polite,  the 
rhinoceros,  which  came  next,  was  very  much  the 
reverse.  That  savage  individual  displayed  a  degree 
of  perverse  obstinacy  and  bad  feeling  which  would 
have  been  deemed  altogether  inexcusable  even  in  a 
small  street-boy. 

In  the  whites  of  its  very  small  grey  eyes  wicked- 
ness sat  enthroned.  The  end  of  its  horns — for  it 
had  two  on  its  nose — appeared  to  be  sharpened  with 
malignity,  its  thick  lips  quivered  with  anger,  and  its 
ridiculously  small  tail  wriggled  with  passionate 

N 


194  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

emotion,  as  if  that  appendage  felt  its  insignificance, 
yet  sought  to  obtrude  itself  on  public  notice. 

To  restrain  this  passenger  was  a  matter  of  the 
utmost  difficulty.  To  get  him  into  the  slings  might 
have  perplexed  Hercules  himself,  but  nothing  could 
appall  the  bo's'ii.  The  slings  were  affixed,  the  order 
to  hoist  was  given  by  the  mate,  who  had  descended 
from  the  poop,  and  stood  near  the  gangway.  Up 
went  the  monster  with  a  grunt,  and  a  peculiar 
rigidity  of  body,  which  evidently  betokened  horror  at 
his  situation. 

Being  fully  five  tons  in  weight,  this  passenger  had 
to  be  received  on  board  with  caution. 

"  Lower  away,"  was  given. 

"  Hold  on,"  was  added. 

Both  orders  were  obeyed,  and  the  huge  animal 
hung  within  three  inches  of  the  deck. 

"  Stand  clear  there,  lads." 

There  was  no  occasion  for  that  order.  It  had 
been  anticipated. 

"  Lower,"  was  again  given. 

The  moment  the  feet  of  the  creature  touched  the 
deck  he  dashed  forward  with  ungovernable  fury, 
broke  the  slings,  overturned  the  bo's'n,  who  fortu- 
nately rolled  into  the  port  scuppers,  and  took  pos- 
session of  the  ship,  driving  the  men  into  the  chains 
and  up  the  rigging. 

"Jump  up  !"  shouted  Jim  Welton  to  the  bo's'n. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          195 

"Here  he  comes  aft !"  yelled  several  of  the  men. 

There  was  no  need  to  warn  the  boatswain.  He 
heard  the  thunder  of  the  monster's  feet,  and  sprang 
into  the  main  rigging  with  an  amount  of  agility  that 
could  hardly  have  been  excelled  by  a  monkey. 

""Why,  what  are  you  all  afraid  of?"  asked  the 
captain  of  the  ship,  who  had  come  on  board  with  a 
number  of  passengers  just  before  the  occurrence  of 
this  incident. 

"  Come  down  here,  sir,  and  you  '11  see,"  replied  the 
mate,  who  was  in  the  main- chains. 

The  captain  declined  with  a  smile,  and  advised 
the  use  of  a  lasso. 

Immediately  every  man  of  the  ship's  crew  became 
for  the  nonce  a  Mexican  wild-horse  tamer  !  Eun- 
ning  nooses  were  made,  and  Jack,  albeit  unused  to 
taking  wild  cattle  on  the  prairies  of  America,  was, 
nevertheless,  such  an  adept  at  casting  a  coil  of  rope 
that  he  succeeded  beyond  the  most  sanguine  expec- 
tation. The  bo's'n  was  the  first  to  throw  a  loop  over 
the  creature's  front  horn — cast  a  hitch  over  its  fore- 
mast as  he  styled  it — amid  a  deafening  cheer.  He 
was  immediately  pulled  out  of  the  rigging,  and  a 
second  time  lay  wallowing  in  the  port  scuppers ;  but 
he  cared  nothing  for  that,  being  upheld  by  the  glory 
of  having  succeeded  in  fixing  the  first  noose.  Soon 
after  that  Stanley  Hall  threw  a  noose  over  the 
creature's  head,  and  Jim  Welton  fixed  one  on  its 


196  "THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

second  horn — or,  as  the  bo's'n  said,  round  his  nrizzen. 
In  the  course  of  half-an-hour  the  rhinoceros  was  so 
completely  entangled  in  the  twisted  ropes  that  he 
seemed  as  though  he  were  involved  in  a  net.  He 
was  finally  captured,  and  led  to  a  ponderous  stall 
that  had  been  prepared  for  him  between  the  fore  and 
main  masts. 

Soon  afterwards  the  last  of  the  human  passengers 
came  on  board.  There  were  many  of  them.  Officers 
and  their  wives  and  children — some  in  health,  some 
in  sickness.  Old  warriors  returning  home  to  repose 
on  their  laurels.  Young  warriors  returning  home  to 
recruit  their  health,  or  to  die.  Women  who  went 
out  as  wives  returning  as  widows,  and  women  who 
went  out  as  widows  returning  as  wives.  Some  re- 
turning with  fortunes  made,  a  few  returning  with 
fortunes  broken ;  but  all,  old  and  young,  healthy  and 
sick,  rich  and  poor,  hopeful  and  hopeless,  glad  at 
the  prospect  of  leaving  the  burning  skies  of  India 
behind,  and  getting  out  among  the  fresh  breezes 
of  the  open  sea.  Then  the  sails  were  set,  and  with 
a  light  evening  breeze  the  Wellington  began  her 
voyage — homeward  bound.  .  .  . 

Once  again  the  scene  changes.  Blue  skies  are 
gone.  Grey  clouds  preponderate.  In  the  Atlantic, 
tossed  by  the  angry  billows,  a  large  ship  scuds  before 
the  wind  as  though  she  were  fleeing  from  the  pur- 
suit of  a  relentless  enemy.  She  has  evidently  seen 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  197 

rough  and  long  service.  Her  decks  have  heen 
swept  by  many  a  heavy  sea ;  her  spars  have  been 
broken  and  spliced.  The  foremast  is  sprung,  the 
maintopgallant  mast  is  gone,  and  the  mizzen  has 
been  snapped  off  close  by  the  deck.  Her  bulwarks 
are  patched  here  and  there,  and  her  general  appear- 
ance bears  evidence  of  the  tremendous  power  of 
Ocean. 

It  would  be  difficult  in  that  weatherworn  hull  to 
recognise  the  trim  full-rigged  ship  that  left  the 
Hoogly  many  months  before. 

It  was  not  a  recent  gale  that  had  caused  all 
this  damage.  In  the  South  Atlantic,  several  weeks 
before,  she  had  encountered  one  of  those  terrific  but 
short-lived  squalls  which  so  frequently  send  many 
of  man's  stoutest  floating  palaces  to  the  bottom. 
Hence  her  half- wrecked  condition. 

The  passengers  on  board  the  Wellington  did  not, 
however,  seem  to  be  much  depressed  by  their  altered 
circumstances.  The  fact  was,  they  had  become  so 
used  to  rough  weather,  and  had  weathered  so  many 
gales,  and  reached  their  damaged  condition  by  such 
slow  degrees,  that  they  did  not  realize  it  as  we  do, 
turning  thus  abruptly  from  one  page  to  another. 
Besides  this,  although  still  some  weeks'  sail  from  the 
white  cliffs  of  old  England,  they  already  began  to 
consider  the  voyage  as  good  as  over,  and  not  a  few 
of  the  impatient  among  them  had  begun  to  pack  up 


1  98  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

so  as  to  be  ready  for  going  ashore.  And  how  care- 
fully were  those  preparations  for  landing  made ! 
With  what  interest  the  sandal-wood  fans,  and  inlaid 
ivory  boxes  and  elaborately  carved  chess-men  and 
curious  Indian  toys,  and  costly  Indian  shawls  were 
re-examined  and  repacked  in  more  secure  and  care- 
fully-to-be-remembered corners,  in  order  that  they 
might  be  got  at  quickly  when  eager  little  hands  "  at 
home — "  Well,  well,  it  is  of  no  use  to  dwell  on  what 
was  meant  to  be,  for  not  one  of  those  love-tokens 
ever  reached  its  destination.  All  were  swallowed 
up  by  the  insatiable  sea. 

But  let  us  not  forestall  The  elephant  and  rhino- 
ceros were  the  only  members  of  the  community  that 
had  perished  on  the  voyage.  At  first  the  elephant 
had  been  dreaded  by  many,  but  by  degrees  it  won 
the  confidence  and  affection  of  all  Houses  in- 
numerable had  been  built  for  it  on  deck,  but  the 
sagacious  animal  had  a  rooted  antipathy  to  restraint. 
No  sort  of  den,  however  strongly  formed,  could  hold 
him  long.  The  first  structures  were  so  ridiculously 
disproportioned  to  his  strength  as  to  be  demolished 
at  once.  On  being  put  into  the  first  "  house  that 
Jack  built,"  he  looked  at  it  demurely  for  at  least 
five  minutes,  as  if  he  were  meditating  on  the  pro- 
bable intentions  of  the  silly  people  who  put  him 
there,  but  neither  by  look  nor  otherwise  did  he 
reveal  the  conclusions  to  which  he  came.  His  in- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          199 

tentions,  however,  were  not  long  of  being  made 
known.  He  placed  his  great  side  against  the  den  ; 
there  was  a  slow  but  steady  rending  of  timbers,  as 
if  the  good  ship  herself  were  breaking  up,  a  burst  of 
laughter  from  the  .men  followed,  and  "  Sambo"  was 
free.  "When  the  succeeding  houses  were  built  so 
strong  that  his  side  availed  not,  he  brought  his 
wonderful  patience  and  his  remarkable  trunk  to  bear 
on  them,  and  picked  them  to  pieces  bit  by  bit. 
Then  ropes  were  tried,  but  he  snapped  weak  ropes 
and  untied  strong  ones. 

At  last  he  was  permitted  to  roam  the  decks  at 
perfect  liberty,  and  it  was  a  point  of  the  greatest 
interest  to  observe  the  neat  way  in  which  he  picked 
his  steps  over  the  lumbered  decks,  without  treading 
upon  anything^ — ay,  even  during  nights  when  these 
decks  in  the  tropical  regions  were  covered  with 
sleeping  men ! 

Everybody  was  fond  of  Sambo.  Neptune  doted 
on  him,  and  the  children — who  fed  him  to  such  an 
extent  with  biscuits  that  the  bo's'n  said  he  would  be 
sartin'  sure  to  die  of  appleplexy — absolutely  adored 
him.  Even  the  gruff,  grumpy,  unsociable  rhino- 
ceros amiably  allowed  him  to  stroke  its  head  with 
his  trunk. 

Sambo  troubled  no  one  except  the  cook,  but  that 
luxurious  individual  was  so  constantly  surrounded 
by  a  halo,  so  to  speak,  of  delicious  and  suggestive 


200  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

odours  that  the  elephant  could  not  resist  the  temp- 
tation to  pay  him  frequent  visits,  especially  when 
dinner  was  being  prepared.  One  of  his  favourite 
proceedings  at  such  times  was  to  put  his  trunk  into 
the  galley,  take  the  lid  off  the  coppers,  make  a  small 
coil  of  the  end  of  his  proboscis,  and  therewith  at  one 
sweep  spoon  out  a  supply  of  potatoes  sufficient  for 
half-a-dozen  men !  Of  course  the  cook  sought  to 
counteract  such  tendencies,  but  he  had  to  be  very 
circumspect,  for  Sambo  resented  insults  fiercely. 

One  day  the  cook  caught  his  enemy  in  the  very 
act  of  clearing  out  the  potato  copper.  Enraged  be- 
yond endurance,  he  stuck  his  "tormentors"  into 
the  animal's  trunk.  With  a  shriek  of  rage  Sambo 
dashed  the  potatoes  in  the  man's  face,  and  made  a 
rush  at  him.  The  cook  fled  to  his  sanctum  and  shut 
the  door.  There  the  elephant  watched  him  for  an 
hour  or  more.  The  united  efforts,  mental  and  phy- 
sical, of  the  ship's  crew  failed  to  remove  the  indignant 
creature,  so  they  advised  the  cook  to  remain  where 
he  was  for  some  time.  He  hit  on  the  plan,  however, 
of  re-winning  the  elephant's  friendship.  He  opened 
his  door  a  little  and  gave  him  a  piece  of  biscuit. 
Sambo  took  it.  What  his  feelings  were  no  one  could 
tell,  but  he  remained  at  his  post.  Another  piece  of 
biscuit  was  handed  out.  Then  the  end  of  the  in- 
jured proboscis  was  smoothed  and  patted  by  the 
cook.  Another  large  piece  of  biscuit  was  adminis- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         201 

tered,  and  by  degrees  the  cure  was  effected.  Thus 
successfully  was  applied  that  grand  principle  which 
has  accomplished  so  much  in  this  wicked  world,  even 
among  higher  animals  than  elephants — the  overcom- 
ing of  evil  with  good ! 

Eventually  Sambo  sickened.  Either  the  cold  of 
the  north  told  too  severely  on  a  frame  which  had 
been  delicately  nurtured  in  sunny  climes,  or  Sambo 
had  surreptitiously  helped  himself  during  the  hours 
of  night  to  something  deleterious  out  of  the  paint  or 
pitch  pots.  At  all  events  he  died,  to  the  sincere 
regret  of  all  on  board — cook  not  excepted — and  was 
launched  overboard  to  glut  the  sharks  with  an  un- 
wonted meal,  and  astonish  them  with  a  new  sensa- 
tion. 

Very  dissimilar  was  the  end  of  the  rhinoceros. 
That  bumptious  animal  retained  its  unamiable 
spirit  to  the  last.  Fortunately  it  did  not  possess 
the  powers  or  sagacity  of  the  elephant.  It  could  not 
untie  knots  or  pick  its  cage  to  pieces,  so  that  it  was 
effectually  restrained  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
voyage ;  but  there  came  a  tempest  at  last,  which 
assisted  him  in  becoming  free — free,  not  only  from 
durance  vile,  but  from  the  restraints  of  this  life  al- 
together. On  the  occasion  referred  to,  the  rudder 
was  damaged,  and  for  a  time  rendered  useless,  so 
that  the  good  ship  Wellington  rolled  to  an  extent 
that  almost  tore  the  masts  out  of  her.  Everything 


202  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

not  firmly  secured  about  the  decks  was  washed  over- 
board. Among  other  things,  the  rhinoceros  was 
knocked  so  heavily  against  the  bars  of  his  crib  that 
they  began  to  give  way. 

At  last  the  vessel  gave  a  plunge  and  roll  which 
seemed  to  many  of  those  on  board  as  though  it  must 
certainly  be  her  last.  The  rhinoceros  was  sent 
crashing  through  the  dislocated  bars  ;  the  ropes  that 
held  his  legs  were  snapped  like  the  cords  wherewith 
Samson  was  bound  in  days  of  old,  and  away  he 
went  with  the  lurch  of  a  tipsy  man  against  the  long- 
boat, which  he  stove  in. 

"  Hold  on  ! "  roared  the  bo's'n. 

Whether  this  was  advice  to  the  luckless  animal,  or 
a  general  adjuration  to  everybody  and  everything  to 
be  prepared  for  the  worst,  we  know  not ;  but  instead 
of  holding  on,  every  one  let  go  what  he  or  she 
chanced  to  be  holding  on  to  at  the  moment,  and 
made  for  a  place  of  safety  with  reckless  haste.  The 
rhinoceros  alone  obeyed  the  order.  It  held  on  for  a 
second  or  two  in  a  most  remarkable  manner  to  the 
mainmast,  but  another  lurch  of  the  vessel  cast  it 
loose  again ;  a  huge  billow  rolled  under  the  stern ; 
down  went  the  bow,  and  the  brute  slid  on  its 
haunches,  with  its  fore  legs  rigid  in  front,  at  an  in- 
credible pace  towards  the  galley.  Just  as  a  smash 
became  imminent,  the  bow  rose,  the  stern  dropt,  and 
away  he  went  back  again  with  equal  speed,  but  in  a 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          203 

more  sidling  attitude,  towards  the  quarter-deck. 
Before  that  point  was  reached,  a  roll  diverted  him 
out  of  course  and  he  was  brought  up  by  the  main 
hatch,  from  which  he  rebounded  like  a  billiard  ball 
towards  the  starboard  gangway.  At  this  point  he 
lost  his  balance,  and  went  rolling  to  leeward  like 
an  empty  cask.  There  was  something  particularly 
awful  and  impressive  in  the  sight  of  this  unwieldy 
monster  being  thus  knocked  about  like  a  pea  in  a 
rattle,  and  sometimes  getting  into  attitudes  that 
would  have  been  worthy  of  a  dancer  on  the  tight- 
rope, but  the  consummation  of  the  event  was  not  far 
off.  An  unusually  violent  roll  of  the  ship  sent  him 
scrambling  to  starboard;  a  still  more  vicious  roll 
checked  and  reversed  the  rush  and  dashed  him 
against  the  cabin  skylight.  He  carried  away  part 
of  this,  continued  his  career,  went  tail-foremost 
through  the  port  bulwarks  like  a  cannon-shot  into 
the  sea.  He  rose  once,  but,  as  if  to  make  sure  of 
her  victory,  the  ship  relentlessly  fell  on  him  with  a 
weight  that  must  have  split  his  skull,  and  sent  him 
finally  to  the  bottom. 

Strange  to  say,  the  dog  Neptune  was  the  only  one 
on  board  that  appeared  to  mourn  the  loss  of  this 
passenger.  He  howled  a  good  deal  that  night  in  an 
unusually  sad  tone,  and  appeared  to  court  sym- 
pathy and  caresses  more  than  was  his  wont  from  Jim 
Welton  and  the  young  people  who  were  specially 


204  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

attached  to  him,  but  lie  soon  became  reconciled,  alas  ! 
to  the  loss  of  his  crusty  friend. 

The  storms  ceased  as  they  neared  the  shores  of 
England.  The  carpenter  and  crew  were  so  energetic 
in  repairing  damages  that  the  battered  vessel  began 
to  wear  once  more  something  of  her  former  trim 
aspect,  and  the  groups  of  passengers  assembled  each 
evening  on  the  poop,  began  to  talk  with  ever-deep- 
ening interest  of  home,  while  the  children  played 
beside  them,  or  asked  innumerable  questions  about 
brothers,  sisters,  and  cousins,  whose  names  were  as 
familiar  as  household  words,  though  their  voices  and 
forms  were  still  unknown. 

The  weather  was  fine,  the  sky  was  clear ;  warm 
summer  breezes  filled  the  sails,  and  all  nature 
seemed  to  have  sunk  into  a  condition  so  peaceful  as 
to  suggest  the  idea  that  storms  were  past  and  gone 
for  ever,  when  the  homeward-bound  ship  neared  the 
land.  One  evening  the  captain  remarked  to  the 
passengers,  that  if  the  wind  would  hold  as  it  was 
a  little  longer,  they  should  soon  pass  through  the 
Downs,  and  say  good-bye  to  the  sea  breezes  and  the 
roll  of  the  ocean  wave. 


07  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         205 


CHAPTEE   XIII. 

BOB  QtTEEKEK  COMES  OUT  VERY  STRONG  INDEED. 

IT  is  both  curious  and  interesting  to  observe  the 
multitude  of  unlikely  ways  in  which  the  ends  of 
justice  are  ofttimes  temporarily  defeated.  Who 
would  have  imagined  that  an  old  pump  would  be  the 
cause  of  extending  Morley  Jones's  term  of  villainy, 
of  disarranging  the  deep-laid  plans  of  Mr.  Larks,  of 
effecting  the  deliverance  of  Billy  Towler,  and  of  at 
once  agonizing  the  body  and  ecstatifying  the  soul  of 
Eobert  Queeker  ?  Yet  so  it  was.  If  the  old  pump 
had  not  existed — if  its  fabricator  had  never  been 
born — there  is  every  probability  that  Mr.  Jones's 
career  would  have  been  cut  short  at  an  earlier  period. 
That  he  would,  in  his  then  state  of  mind,  have  im- 
plicated Billy,  wlio  would  have  been  transported 
along  with  him  and  almost  certainly  ruined ;  that 
Mr.  Queeker  would —  but  hold.  Let  us  present  the 
matter  in  order. 

Messrs.  Merryheart  and  Dashope  were  men  of  the 


206  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

law,  and  Mr.  Eobert  Quoeker  was  a  man  of  their 
office — in  other  words,  a  clerk — not  a  "  confidential " 
one,  but  a  clerk,  nevertheless,  in  whose  simple- 
minded  integrity  they  had  much  confidence.  Bob, 
as  his  fellow- clerks  styled  him,  was  sent  on  a  secret 
mission  to  Eamsgate.  The  reader  will  observe  how 
fortunate  it  was  that  his  mission  was  secret,  because 
it  frees  us  from  the  necessity  of  setting  down  here 
an  elaborate  and  tedious  explanation  as  to  how, 
when,  and  where  the  various  threads  of  his  mission 
became  interwoven  with  the  fabric  of  our  tale.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say  that  the  only  part  of  his  mission  with 
which  we  are  acquainted  is  that  which  had  reference 
to  two  men — one  of  whom  was  named  Mr.  Larks, 
the  other  Morley  Jones. 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  Queeker's  acquaintance, 
Mr.  Durant,  had  an  intimate  friend  who  dwelt  near 
a  beautiful  village  in  Kent.  When  Queeker  men- 
tioned the  circumstance  of  the  secret  mission  which 
called  him  to  Eamsgate,  he  discovered  that  the  old 
gentleman  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for  this  village, 
in  company  with  his  daughter  and  her  cousin  Fanny. 

"  You  '11  travel  with  us,  I  hope,  Queeker ;  our 
roads  lie  in  the  same  direction,  at  least  a  part  of  the 
way,  you  know,"  said  the  hearty  little  old  gentle- 
man, with  good-nature  beaming  in  every  wrinkle, 
from  the  crown  of  his  bald  head  to  the  last  fold  of 
his  treble  chin  ;  "  it  will  be  such  a  comfort  to  have 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  207 

you  to  help  me  take  care"  of  the  girls.  And  if  you 
can  spare  time  to  turn  aside  for  a  day  or  two,  I  pro- 
mise you  a  hearty  welcome  from  my  friend — whose 
residence,  named  Jenkinsjoy,  is  an  antique  paradise, 
and  his  hospitality  unbounded.  He  has  splendid 
horses,  too,  and  will  give  you  a  gallop  over  as  fine 
a  country  as  exists  between  this  and  the  British 
Channel.  You  ride,  of  course  ? " 

Queeker  admitted  that  he  could  ride  a  little. 

"  At  least,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  "  I  used  fre- 
quently to  get  rides  on  a  cart-horse  when  I  was  a 
very  little  boy." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Queeker  should  travel 
with  them.  Moreover,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  from 
his  employers  permission  to  delay  for  three  days  the 
prosecution  of  the  mission — which,  although  secret, 
was  not  immediately  pressing — in  order  that  he 
might  visit  Jenkinsjoy.  It  was  fortunate  that,  when 
he  went  to  ask  this  brief  holiday,  he  found  Mr. 
Merryheart  in  the  office.  Had  it  been  his  mischance 
to  fall  upon  Dashope,  he  would  have  received  a  blunt 
refusal  and  prompt  dismissal — so  thoroughly  were 
the  joys  of  that  gentleman  identified  with  the  woes 
of  other  people. 

But,  great  though  Queeker's  delight  undoubtedly 
was  on  this  occasion,  it  was  tempered  by  a  soul-har- 
assing care,  which  drew  forth  whole  quires  of  poeti- 
cal effusions  to  the  moon  and  other  celestial  bodies. 


208  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

This  secret  sorrow  was  caused  by  the  dreadful  and 
asto'nishing  fact,  that,  do  what  he  would  to  the  con- 
trary, the  weather-cock  of  his  affections  was  veering 
slowly  but  steadily  away  from  Katie,  and  pointing 
more  and  more  decidedly  towards  Fanny  Henniugs  ! 
It  is  but  simple  justice  to  the  poor  youth  to  state 
that  he  loathed  and  abhorred  himself  in  consequence. 

"There  am  I,"  he  soliloquized,  on  the  evening  be- 
fore the  journey  began,  "  a  monster,  a  brute,  a  lower 
animal  almost,  who  have  sought  with  all  my  strength 
to  gain — perchance  have  gained — the  innocent,  trust- 
ing heart  of  Katie  Durant,  and  yet,  without  really 
meaning  it,  but,  somehow,  without  being  able  to  help 
it,  I  am — not  falling  in  love ;  oh !  no,  perish  the 
thought !  but,  but — falling  into  something  strangely, 
mysteriously,  incomprehensibly,  similar  to —  Oh ! 
base  ingrate  that  I  am,  is  there  no  way ;  no  back- 
door by  which — ?" 

Starting  up,  and  seizing  a  pen,  at  this  point  of 
irrepressible  inspiration,  he  wrote,  reading  aloud  as 
he  set  down  the  burning  thoughts, — 

"  Oh  for  a  postern  in  the  rear, 
Where  wretched  man  might  disappear  ; 

And  never  more  should  seek  her  ! 

Fly,  fly  to  earth's  extremest  bounds, 

(Bounds,  mounds,  lounds,  founds,  kounds,  downds, 
rounds,  pounds,  zounds ! — hounds —  ha !  hounds — 
I  have  it) — 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          209 

"  Fly,  fly  to  earth's  extremest  bounds, 
With  huntsmen,  horses,  horns,  and  hounds  ; 
And  die  ! — dejected  Queeker. 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  Queeker,  as  he  sat  biting  the 
end  of  his  quill — his  usual  method  of  courting  in- 
spiration, "  I  wonder  if  there  is  anything  prophetic 
in  these  lines !  Durant  said  that  his  friend  has 
splendid  horses.  They  may,  perhaps,  be  hunters  ! 
Ha !  my  early  ambition,  perchance,  youth's  fond 
dreain,  may  yet  be  realized  !  But  let  me  not  hope. 
Hope  always  tells  a  false  as  well  as  flattering  tale 
to  me.  She  has  ever  been,  in  my  experience "  (he 
was  bitter  at  this  point)  "  an  incorrigible  li —  ahem  ! 
story-teller." 

Striking  his  clenched  fist  heavily  on  the  table, 
Queeker  rose,  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  round  to 
Mr.  Durant's  merely  to  inquire  whether  he  could  be 
of  any  service — not  that  he  could  venture  to  offer 
assistance  in  the  way  of  packing,  but  there  might 
be  something,  such  as  roping  trunks,  or  writing  and 
affixing  addresses,  in  regard  to  which  he  might 
perhaps  render  himself  useful. 

"Why,  Miss  Durant,"  he  said,  on  entering,  "you 
are  always  busy." 

"Am  I?"  said  Katie,  with  a  smile,  as  she  rose 
and  shook  hands. 

"  Yes,  I — I — assure  you,  Miss  Durant,"  said 
Queeker,  bowing  to  Fanny,  on  whose  fat  pretty 
face  there  was  a  scarlet  flush,  the  result  either  of 

o 


210  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  suddenness  of  Queeker's  entry,  or  of  the  sup- 
pression of  her  inveterate  desire  to  laugh,  "  I  assure 
you  that  it  quite  rouses  my  admiration  to  observe 
the  ease  with  which  you  can  turn  your  hand  to  any- 
thing. You  can  write  out  accounts  better  than  any 
fellow  in  our  office.  Then  you  play  and  sing  with 
so  much  ease,  and  I  often  find  you  making  clothes 
for  poor  people,  with  pounds  of  tea  and  sugar  in 
your  pockets,  besides  many  other  things,  and  now, 
here  you  are  painting  like — like — one  of  the  old 
masters !" 

This  was  quite  an  unusual  burst  on  the  part  of 
Queeker,  who  felt  as  though  he  were  making  some 
amends  for  his  unfaithfulness  in  thus  recalling  and 
emphatically  asserting  the  unquestionably  good 
qualities  of  his  lady-love.  He  felt  as  if  he  were 
honestly  attempting  to  win  himself  back  to  his 
allegiance. 

"  You  are  very  complimentary,"  said  Katie,  with 
a  glance  at  her  cousin,  which  threw  that  young  lady 
into  silent  convulsions. 

"Not  at  all,"  cried  Queeker,  forcing  his  enthu- 
siasm up  to  white  heat,  and  seizing  a  drawing, 
which  he  held  up  before  him,  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
shut  Fanny  out  of  his  sight. 

"  Now,  I  call  this  most  beautiful,"  he  said,  in  tones 
of  genuine  admiration.  "  I  never  saw  anything  so 
sweet  before." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          211 

"  Indeed !"  said  Katie,  who  observed  that  the 
youth  was  gazing  over  the  top  of  the  drawing  at  her 
cousin.  "  I  am  so  glad  you  like  it,  for,  to  say  truth, 
I  have  felt  disappointed  with  it  myself,  and  papa 
says  it  is  only  so-so.  Do  point  out  to  me  its  faults, 
Mr.  Queeker,  and  the  parts  you  like  best." 

She  rose  and  looked  over  Queeker's  shoulder  with 
much  interest,  and  took  hold  of  the  drawing  to  keep 
it  firmly  in  its  position. 

There  was  an  excessively  merry  twinkle  in  Katie's 
eyes  as  she  watched  the  expression  of  Queeker's 
face  when  he  exclaimed — 

"Faults,  Miss  Durant,  there  are  no — eh!  why, 
what—" 

"  Oh  you  wicked,  deceptive  man,  you  Ve  got  it 
upside  down !"  said  Katie,  shaking  her  finger  at  the 
unhappy  youth,  who  stammered,  tried  to  explain — 
to  apologize — failed,  broke  down,  and  talked  unut- 
terable nonsense,  to  the  infinite  delight  of  his  fair 
tormentor. 

As  for  Fanny,  that  Hebe  bent  her  head  suddenly 
over  her  work-basket,  and  thrust  her  face  into  it  as 
if  searching  with  microscopic  intensity  for  something 
that  positively  refused  to  be  found.  All  that  we 
can  .safely  affirm  in  regard  to  her  is,  that  if  her  face 
bore  any  resemblance  to  the  scarlet  of  her  ne^k,  the 
fact  that  her  workbox  did  not  take  fire  is  little 
short  of  a  miracle  ! 


212  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Fortunately  for  all  parties  Queeker  inadvertently 
trod  on  the  cat's  tail,  which  resulted  in  a  spurt  so 
violent  as  to  justify  a  total  change  of  subject. 
Before  the  storm  thus  raised  had  calmed  down,  Mr. 
Durant  entered  the  room. 

At  Jenkinsjoy  Queeker  certainly  did  meet  with  a 
reception  even  more  hearty  than  he  had  been  led  to 
expect.  Mr.  Durant's  friend,  Stoutheart,  his  amiable 
wife  and  daughters  and  strapping  sons,  received  the 
youthful  limb  of  the  law  with  that  frank  hospitality 
which  we  are  taught  to  attribute  "  to  Merrie  England 
in  the  olden  time."  The  mansion  was  old-fashioned 
and  low- roofed,  trellis- worked  and  creeper- loved  ; 
addicted  to  oak  panelling,  balustrades,  and  tapestried 
walls,  and  highly  suitable  to  ghosts  of  a  humorous 
and  agreeable  tendency.  Indeed  it  was  said  that 
one  of  the  rooms  actually  was  haunted  at  that  very 
time ;  but  Queeker  did  not  see  any  ghosts,  although 
he  afterwards  freely  confessed  to  having  seen  all  the 
rooms  in  the  house  more  or  less  haunted  by  fairy 
spirits  of  the  fair  sex,  and  masculine  ghosts  in  buck- 
skins and  top-boots  !  The  whole  air  and  aspect  of 
the  neighbourhood  was  such  that  Queeker  half 
expected  to  find  a  May-pole  in  the  neighbouring 
village,  sweet  shepherdesses  in  straw  hats, -pink 
ribbons,  and  short  kirtles  in  the  fields,  and  gentle 
shepherds  with  long  crook^s,  playing  antique  flageo- 
lets on  green  banks,  with  innocent-looking  dogs 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         213 

beside  them,  and  humble-minded  sheep  reposing  in 
Arcadian  felicity  at  their  feet. 

"  Where  does  the  meet  take  place  to-day,  Tom  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Stoutheart  senior  of  Mr.  Stoutheart 
junior,  while  seated  at  breakfast  the  first  morning 
after  their  arrival  at  Jenkinsjoy. 

"  At  Curmersfield,"  replied  young  Stoutheart. 

"  Ah,  not  a  bad  piece  of  country  to  cross.  You 
remember  when  you  and  I  went  over  it  together, 
Amy?" 

"  We  have  gone  over  it  so  often  together,  papa," 
replied  Amy,  "  that  I  really  don't  know  to  which 
occasion  you  refer." 

"  Why,  that  time  when  we  met  the  hounds 
unexpectedly ;  when  you  were  mounted  on  your 
favourite  Wildfire,  and  appeared  to  have  imbibed 
some  of  his  spirit,  for  you  went  off  at  a  tangent, 
crying  out,  "  Come  along,  papa  ! "  and  cleared  the 
hedge  at  the  roadside,  crossed  Slapperton's  farm, 
galloped  up  the  lane  leading  to  Curmersfield,  took 
the  ditch,  with  the  low  fence  beyond  at  Cumitstrong's 
turnip-field,  in  a  flying  leap — obliging  me  to  go 
quarter  of  a  mile  round  by  the  gate — and  overtook 
the  hounds  just  as  they  broke  away  on  a  false  scent 
in  the  direction  of  the  Neckornothing  ditch." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  remember,"  replied  Amy  with  a  gentle 
smile ;  "  it  was  a  charming  gallop.  I  wished  to 
continue  it.  but  you  thought  the  giound  would  be 


214  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

too  much  for  me,  though  I  have  gone  over  it  twice 
since  then  in  perfect  safety.  You  are  far  too  timid, 
papa." 

Queerer  gazed  and  listened  in  open-mouthed 
amazement,  for  the  young  girl  who  acknowledged 
in  an  offhand  way  that  she  had  performed  such  tre- 
mendous feats  of  horsemanship  was  modest,  pretty, 
unaffected,  and  feminine. 

"I  wonder,"  thought  Queeker,  "if  Fan —  ah,  I 
mean  Katie — could  do  that  sort  of  thing  ?" 

He  looked  loyally  at  Katie,  but  thought,  dis- 
loyally, of  her  cousin,  accused  himself  of  base  un- 
faithfulness, and,  seizing  a  hot  roll,  began  to  eat 
violently. 

"Would  you  like  to  see  the  meet,  Mr.  Queeker?" 
said  Mr.  Stoutheart  senior ;  "  I  can  give  you  a  good 
mount.  My  own  horse,  Slapover,  is  neither  so  ele- 
gant nor  so  high-spiriteu  as  Wildfire,  but  he  can  go 
over  anything,  and  is  quite  safe." 

A  sensitive  spring  had  been  touched  in  the  bosom 
of  Queeker,  which  opened  a  floodgate  that  set  loose 
an  astonishing  and  unprecedented  flow  of  enthusi- 
astic eloquence. 

"  I  shall  like  it  of  all  things,"  he  cried,  with  spark- 
ling eyes  and  heightened  colour.  "  It  has  been  my 
ambition  ever  since  I  was  a  little  boy  to  mount  a 
thoroughbred  and  follow  the  hounds.  I  assure  you 
the  idea  of  '  crossing  country,'  as  it  is  called,  I  be- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         215 

lieve,  and  taking  hedges,  ditches,  five-barred  gates 
and  everything  as  we  go,  has  a  charm  for  me  which 
is  absolutely  inexpressible — " 

Queeker  stopped  abruptly,  because  he  observed 
a  slight  flush  on  Fanny's  cheeks  and  a  pursed  ex- 
pression on  Fanny's  lips,  and  felt  uncertain  as  to 
whether  or  not  she  was  laughing  at  him  internally. 

"Well  said,  Queeker,"  cried  Mr.  Stoutheart  en- 
thusiastically; "it's  a  pity  you  are  a  town-bred 
man.  Such  spirit  as  yours  can  find  vent  only  in 
the  free  air  of  the  country  !" 

"Amy,  dear,"  said  Katie,  with  an  extremely  in- 
nocent look  at  her  friend,  "do  huntsmen  in  this 
part  of  England  usually  take  'everything  as  they 
go  ?'  I  think  Mr.  Queeker  used  that  expression." 

"  N — not  exactly,"  replied  Amy,  with  a  smile  and 
glance  of  uncertainty,  as  if  she  did  not  quite  see 
the  drift  of  the  question. 

"  Ah  !  I  thought  not,"  returned  Katie  with  much 
gravity.  "  I  had  always  been  under  the  impression 
that  huntsmen  were  in  the  habit  of  going  round 
stackyards,  and  houses,  and  such  things — not  over 
them." 

Queeker  was  stabbed — stabbed  to  the  heart !  It 
availed  not  that  the  company  laughed  lightly  at  the 
joke,  and  that  Mr.  Stoutheait  said  that  he  (Queeker) 
should  realize  his  young  dream,  and  reiterated  the 
assurance  that  his  horse  would  carry  hkn  over  any- 


216  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

thing  if  he  only  held  tightly  on  and  let  him  go. 
He  had  been  stabbed  by  Katie — the  gentle  Katie — 
the  girl  whom  he  had  adored  so  long — ha !  there 
was  comfort  in  the  word  had;  it  belonged  to  the 
past ;  it  referred  to  things  gone  by ;  it  rhymed  with 
sad,  bad,  mad ;  it  suggested  a  period  of  remote 
antiquity,  and  pointed  to  a  hazy  future.  As  the 
latter  thought  rushed  through  his  heated  brain,  he 
turned  his  eyes  on  Fanny,  with  that  bold  look  of 
dreadful  determination  that  marks  the  traitor  when, 
having  fully  made  up  his  mind,  he  turns  his  back 
on  his  queen  and  flag  for  ever  !  But  poor  Queeker 
found  little  comfort  in  the  new  prospect,  for  Fanny 
had  been  gently  touched  on  the  elbow  by  Katie 
when  she  committed  her  savage  attack ;  and  when 
Queeker  looked  at  the  fair,  fat  cousin,  she  was  in- 
volved in  the  agonies  of  a  suppressed  but  tremen- 
dous giggle. 

After  breakfast  two  horses  were  brought  to  the 
door.  Wildfire,  a  sleek,  powerful  roan  of  large  size, 
was  a  fit  steed  for  the  stalwart  Tom,  who,  in  neatly- 
fitting  costume  and  Hessian  boots,  got  into  the  saddle 
like  a  man  accustomed  to  it.  The  other  horse,  Slap- 
over,  was  a  large,  strong-boned,  somewhat  heavy 
steed,  suitable  for  a  man  who  weighed  sixteen  stone, 
and  stood  six  feet  in  his  socks. 

"  Now  then,  jump  up,  Queeker,"  said  Mr.  Stout- 
heart,  holding  the  stirrup; 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          217 

If  Queeker  had  been  .advised  to  vault  upon  the 
ridge-pole  of  the  house,  he  could  not  have  looked 
more  perplexed  than  he  did  as  he  stood  looking  up 
at  the  towering  mass  of  horse-flesh,  to  the  summit 
of  which  he  was  expected  to  climb.  However, 
being  extremely  light,  and  Mr.  Stoutheart  senior 
very  strong,  he  was  got  into  the  saddle  somehow. 

"  Where  are  the  stirrups  ?"  said  Queeker,  with  a 
perplexed  air,  trying  to  look  over  the  side  of  his 
steed. 

"Why,  they've  forgot  to  shorten  'em,"  said  Mr. 
Stoutheart  with  a  laugh,  observing  that  the  irons 
were  dangling  six  inches  below  the  rider's  toes. 

This  was  soon  rectified.  Queeker's  glazed  leather 
leggings — which  were  too  large  for  him,  and  had  a 
tendency  to  turn  round — were  put  straight ;  the 
reins  were  gathered  up,  and  the  huntsman  rode 
away. 

"All  you've  to  do  is  to  hold  on,"  shouted  Mr. 
Stoutheart,  as  they  rode  through  the  gate.  "  He  is 
usually  a  little  skittish  at  the  start,  but  quiet  as  a 
lamb  afterwards." 

Queeker  made  no  reply.  His  mind  was  brooding 
on  his  wrongs  and  sorrows  ;  for  Katie  had  quietly 
whispered  him  to  take  care  and  not  fall  off,  and 

4 

Fanny  had  giggled  again. 

"I  must  cure  him  of  his  foolish  fancy,"  thought 
Katie  as  she  re-entered  the  house,  "  for  Fanny's 


218  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

sake,  if  for  nothing  else  ;  though  I  cannot  conceive 
what  she  can  see  to  like  in  him.  There  is  no 
accounting  for  taste  !" 

"I  can  at  all  events  die;" — thought  Queekei, 
as  he  rode  along,  shaking  the  reins  and  pressing  his 
little  legs  against  the  horse  as  if  with  the  savage 
intention  of  squeezing  the  animal's  ribs  together. 

"  There  was  prophetic  inspiration  in  the  lines ! — 
yes,"  he  continued,  repeating  them, — 

"  Fly,  fly,  to  earth's  extremest  bounds, 
With  huntsmen,  horses,  horn,  and  hounds, 
And  die — dejected  Queeker  ! 

I'll  change  that — it  shall  be  rejected  Queeker  now." 
For  some  time  Tom  Stoutheart  and  Queeker  rode 
over  "  hill  and  dale  " — that  is  ,to  say,  they  traversed 
four  miles  of  beautiful  undulating  and  diversified 
country  at  a  leisurely  pace,  having  started  in  good 
time. 

"Your  father,"  observed  Queeker,  as  they  rode 
side  by  side  down  a  green  lane,  "  said,  I  think,  when 
we  started,  that  this  horse  was  apt  to  be  skittish  at 
the  start.  Is  he  difficult  to  hold  in  ? " 

"Oh  no,"  replied  Tom,  with  a  reassuring  smile. 
"  He  is  as  quiet  and  manageable  as  any  man  could 
wish.  He  does  indeed  bounce  about  a  little  when 
we  burst  away  at  first,  and  is  apt  then  to  get  the 
bit  in  his  teeth ;  but  you  Ve  only  to  keep  a  tight 
rein  and  he  11  go  all  right.  His  only  fault  is  a  habit 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          219 

of  tossing  his  head,  which  is  a  little  awkward  until 
you  get  used  to  it." 

"Yes,  I  have  discovered  that  fault  already,"  re- 
plied Queeker,  as  the  horse  gave  a  practical  illustra- 
tion of  it  by  tossing  his  enormous  head  back  until  it 
reached  to  within  an  inch  of  the  point  of  his  rider's 
nose.  "  Twice  he  has  just  touched  my  forehead. 
Had  I  been  bending  a  little  forward  I  suppose  he 
would  have  given  me  an  unpleasant  blow." 

" Bather,"  said  Stoutheart  junior.  "I  knew  one 
poor  fellow  who  was  struck  in  that  way  by  his 
horse  and  knocked  off  insensible.  I  think  he  was 
killed,  but  don't  feel  quite  sure  as  to  that." 

"He  has  no  other  faults,  I  hope  ?"  asked  Queeker. 

"  None.  As  for  refusing  his  leaps — he  refuses 
nothing.  He  carries  my  father  over  anything  he 
chooses  to  run  him  at,  so  it's  not  likely  that  he'll 
stick  with  a  light-weight." 

This  was  so  self-evident  that  Queeker  felt  a  reply 
to  be  unnecessary ;  he  rode  on,  therefore,  in  silence 
for  a  few  minutes,  comforting  himself  with  the 
thought  that,  at  all  events,  he  could  die  ! 

"  I  don't  intend,"  said  Queeker,  after  a  few 
minutes'  consideration,  "to  attempt  to  leap  every- 
thing. I  think  that  would  be  foolhardy.  I  must 
tell  you,  Mr.  Stoutheart,  before  we  get  to  the  place 
of  meeting,  that  I  can  only  ride  a  very  little,  and 
have  never  attempted  to  leap  a  fence  of  any  kind. 


220  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Indeed  I  never  bestrode  a  real  hunter  before.  I  shall 
therefore  content  myself  with  following  the  hounds  as 
far  as  it  is  safe  to  do  so,  and  will  then  give  it  up." 

Young  Stoutheart  was  a  little  surprised  at  the 
modest  and  prudent  tone  of  this  speech,  but  he 
good-naturedly  replied, — 

"  Very  well,  1 11  guide  you  through  the  gates  and 
gaps.  You  just  follow  me,  and  you  shall  be  all  right, 
and  when  you  've  had  enough  of  it,  let  me  know." 

Queeker  and  his  friend  were  first  in  the  field,  but 
they  had  not  been  there  many  minutes  when  one 
and  another  and  another  red-coat  came  cantering 
over  the  country,  and  ere  long  a  large  cavalcade 
assembled  in  front  of  a  mansion,  the  lawn  of  which 
formed  the  rendezvous.  There  were  men  of  all  sorts 
and  sizes,  on  steeds  of  all  kinds  and  shapes — little  men 
on  big  horses,  and  big  men  on  little  horses  ;  men  who 
looked  like  "  bloated  aristocrats"  before  the  bloating 
process  had  begun,  and  men  in  whom  the  bloating 
process  was  pretty  far  advanced,  but  who  had  no 
touch  of  aristocracy  to  soften  it.  Men  who  looked 
healthy  and  happy,  others  who  looked  reckless  and 
depraved.  Some  wore  red-coats,  cords,  and  tops — 
others,  to  the  surprise  and  no  small  comfort  of 
Queeker,  who  fancied  that  all  huntsmen  wore  red 
coats,  were  habited  in  modest  tweeds  of  brown  and 
grey.  Many  of  the  horses  were  sleek,  glossy,  and 
fine-limbed,  like  racers;  others  were  strong-boned  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         221 

rough.  Some  few  were  ef  gigantic  size  and  rugged 
aspect,  to  suit  the  massive  men  who  bestrode  them. 
One  of  these  in  particular,  a  hearty,  jovial  farmer — 
and  a  relative  of  Tom's — appeared  to  the  admiring 
Queeker  to  be  big  and  powerful  enough  to  have 
charged  a  whole  troop  of  light  dragoons  single-handed 
with  some  hope  of  a  successful  issue.  Ladies  were 
there  to  witness  the  start,  and  two  of  the  fair  sex  ap- 
peared ready  to  join  the  hunt  and  follow  the  hounds, 
while  here  and  there  little  boys  might  be  seen  bent  on 
trying  their  metal  on  the  backs  of  Shetland  ponies. 

It  was  a  stirring  scene  of  meeting,  and  chatting, 
and  laughing,  and  rearing,  and  curvetting,  and  fresh 
air,  and  sunshine.  / 

Presently  the  master  of  the  hounds  came  up  with 
the  pack  at  his  heels.  A  footman  of  the  mansion 
supplied  all  who  desired  it  with  a  tumbler  of  beer. 

"  Have  some  beer  ?"  said  young  Stoutheart,  point- 
ing to  the  footman  referred  to. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Queeker.    "  Will  you  ?" 

"  No.  I  have  quite  enough  of  spirit  within  me. 
Don't  require  artificial  stimulant,"  said  the  youth 
with  a  laugh.  "  Come  now — we  're  off." 

Queeker's  heart  gave  a  bound  as  he  observed  the 
master  of  the  hounds  ride  off  at  a  brisk  pace  fol- 
lowed by  the  whole  field. 

"  I  won't  die  yet.  It 's  too  soon,"  he  thought,  as 
he  shook  the  reins  and  chirped  to  his  steed. 


223  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Slapover  did  not  require  chirping.  He  shook  his 
head,  executed  a  mild  pirouette  on  his  left  hind  leg, 
and  made  a  plunge  which  threatened  first  to  leave 
his  rider  behind,  and  then  to  shoot  him  over  his 
head.  Queeker  had  been  taken  unawares,  but  he 
pressed  his  knees  together,  knitted  his  brows,  and 
resolved  not  to  be  so  taken  again. 

Whew  !  what  a  rush  there  was  as  the  two  or 
three  hundred  excited  steeds  and  enthusiastic  riders 
crossed  the  lawn,  galloped  through  an  open  gate, 
and  made  towards  a  piece  of  rough  ground  covered 
with  low  bushes  and  bracken,  through  which  the 
hounds  were  seen  actively  running  as  if  in  search  of 
something.  The  bodies  of  the  hounds  were  almost 
hidden,  and  Queeker,  whose  chief  attention  was 
devoted  to  his  horse,  had  only  time  to  receive  the 
vague  impression,  as  he  galloped  up,  that  the  place 
was  alive  with  white  and  pointed  tails. 

That  first  rush  scattered  Queeker's  depression  to 
the  winds.  What  cared  he  for  love,  either  suc- 
cessful or  unrequited,  now?  Katie  was  forgotten. 
Fanny  was  to  him  little  better  than  a  mere  abstrac- 
tion. He  was  on  a  hunter  !  He  was  following  the 
hounds  !  He  had  heard,  or  imagined  he  had  heard, 
something  like  a  horn.  He  was  surprised  a  little 
that  no  one  cried  out  "  Tally-ho  ! "  and  in  the  wild 
excitement  of  his  feelings  thought  of  venturing  on 
it  himself,  but  the  necessity  of  holding  in  Slapover 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  223 

with  all  the  power  of  his_  arms,  fortunately  induced 
him  to  restrain  his  ardour. 

Soon  after  he  heard  a  shout  of  some  sort,  which 
he  tried  to  helieve  was  "  Tally-ho  ! "  and  the  scat- 
tered huntsmen,  who  had  been  galloping  about  in 
all  directions,  converged  into  a  stream.  Following, 
he  knew  not  and  cared  not  what  or  whom,  he  swept 
round  the  margin  of  a  little  pond,  and  dashed  over 
a  neighbouring  field. 

From  that  point  Queeker's  recollection  of  events 
became  a  train  of  general  confusion,  with  lucid 
points  at  intervals,  where  incidents  of  unusual  in- 
terest or  force  arrested  his  attention. 

The  first  of  these  lucid  points  was  when,  at  the 
end  of  a  heavy  burst  over  a  ploughed  field,  he 
came  to  what  may  be  styled  his  first  leap.  His  hat 
by  that  time  had  threatened  so  frequently  to  come 
off,  that  he  had  thrust  it  desperately  down  on  his 
head,  until  the  rim  behind  rested  on  the  back  of  his 
neck.  Trotting  through  a  gap  in  a  hedge  into  a 
road,  young  Stoutheart  sought  about  for  a  place  by 
which  they  might  clamber  up  into  the  next  field 
without  going  round  by  the  gate  towards  which 
most  of  the  field  had  headed. 

"  D'  you  think  you  could  manage  that  ? "  said 
Tom,  pointing  with  the  handle  of  his  whip  to  a  gap 
in  the  hedge,  where  there  was  a  mound  and  a  hollow 
with  a  ckevaiix-  de-frise  of  cut  stumps  around,  and  a 


224  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

mass  of  thorn  branches  sufficiently  thin  to  be  broken 
through. 

Queeker  never  looked  at  it,  but  gazing  steadily  in 
the  face  of  his  friend,  said, — 

"  I  '11  follow!" 

Stoutheart  at  once  pushed  his  horse  at  it.  It 
could  not  be  called  a  leap.  It  was  a  mere  scramble, 
done  at  the  slowest  possible  pace.  Wildfire  gave 
one  or  two  little  bounds,  and  appeared  to  walk  up 
perpendicularly  on  his  hind  legs,  while  Tom  looked 
as  if  he  were  plastered  against  him  with  some  ad- 
hesive substance ;  then  he  appeared  to  drop  perpen- 
dicularly down  on  the  other  side,  his  tail  alone  being 
visible. 

"  All  right,  come  along,"  shouted  Tom. 

Queeker  rode  up  to  the  gap,  shut  his  eyes, 
gave  a  chirp,  and  committed  himself  to  fate  and 
Slapover.  He  felt  a  succession  of  shocks,  and  then 
a  pause.  Venturing  to  open  his  eyes,  he  saw  young 
Stoutheart,  still  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence,  laugh- 
ing at  him. 

"  You  shouldn't  hold  so  tight  by  the  reins,"  he 
cried ;  "  you  Ve  pulled  him  back  into  the  road.  Try 
it  again." 

Queeker  once  more  shut  his  eyes,  slacked  the  reins, 
and,  seizing  the  pommel  of  "the  saddle,  gave  another 
chirp.  Again  there  was  a  shock,  which  appeared  to 
drive  his  body  up  against  his  head ;  another  which 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  225 

seemed  to  have  all  but  snapped  him  off  at  the  waist ; 
then  a  sensation  abouj;  his  hat,  as  if  a  few  wild- 
cats were  attempting  to  tear  it  off,  followed  by  a 
drop  and  a  plunge,  which  threw  him  forward  on  his 
charger's  neck. 

"  Dear  me  ! "  he  exclaimed,  panting,  as  he  opened 
his  eyes,  "  I  had  no  idea  the  shock  would  have  been 
so — so — shocking ! " 

Tom  laughed ;  cried  "  Well  done  ! "  and  galloped 
on.  Queeker  followed,  his  cheeks  on  fire,  and  per- 
spiration streaming  from  his  brow. 

"  Now,  then,  here  is  an  easy  fence,"  cried  Stout- 
heart,  looking  back  and  pointing  to  a  part  of  the 
field  where  most  of  the  huntsmen  were  popping  over 
a  low  hedge,  "  will  you  try  it  ? " 

Queeker's  spirit  was  fairly  up. 

"  I  '11  try  it ! "  he  said,  sternly. 

"  Come  on  then." 

Stoutheart  led  the  way  gallantly,  at  full  speed, 
and  went  over  like  an  india-rubber  ball.  Queeker 
brought  the  handle  of  his  riding- whip  whack  down 
on  the  flank  of  his  astonished  horse,  and  flew  at  the 
fence.  Slapover  took  it  with  a  magnificent  bound. 
Queeker  was  all  but  left  behind !  He  tottered,  as 
it  were,  in  the  saddle ;  rose  entirely  out  of  it ;  came 
down  with  a  crash  that  almost  sent  him  over  the 
horse's  head,  and  gave  him  the  probable  sensations 
of  a  telescope  on  being  forcibly  shut  up ;  but  he  held . 

P 


226  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

on  bravely,  and  galloped  up  alongside  of  his  com- 
panion, with  a  tendency  to  cheer  despite  his  increased 
surprise  at  the  extreme  violence  of  the  shocks  to 
which  his  unaccustomed  frame  was  being  exposed. 

After  this  our  enthusiastic  Mmrod  went  at  every- 
thing, and  feared  nothing!  Well  was  it  for  him 
that'he  had  arranged  to  follow  Tom  Stoutheart,  else 
assuredly  he  would  have  run  Slapover  at  fences  which 
would  have  taxed  the  temerity  even  of  that  quadru- 
ped, and  insured  his  destruction.  Tom,  seeing  his 
condition,  considerately  kept  him  out  of  danger,  and 
yet,  being  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  country, 
managed  to  keep  him  well  up  with  the  hounds. 

Towards  the  afternoon  Queeker's  fire  began  to 
abate.  His  aspect  had  become  dishevelled.  His 
hat  had  got  so  severely  thrust  down  on  his  head, 
that  the  brim  in  front  reposed  on  the  bridge  of  his 
nose,  as  did  the  brim  behind  on  the  nape  of  his  neck. 
His  trousers  were  collected  in  folds  chiefly  about  his 
knees,  and  the  glazed  leggings  had  turned  completely 
round,  presenting  the  calves  to  the  front.  But  these 
were  matters  of  small  moment  compared  with  the 
desperate  desire  he  had  to  bring  his  legs  together, 
if  even  for  a  moment  of  time  !  Sensations  in  various 
parts  of  his  frame,  which  in  the  earlier  part  of  the 
day  had  merely  served  tc  remind  him  that  he  was 
mortal,  had  now  culminated  into  unquestionable 
aches  and  pains,  and  his  desire  to  get  off  the  back 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          227 

of  Slapover  became  so  intense^  that  he  would  cer- 
tainly have  given  way,  to  it  had  he  not  felt  that  in 
the  event  of  his  doing  so  there  would  be  no  possi- 
bility of  his  getting  on  again  ! 

"  Where  are  they  all  away  to  ?"  he  asked  in  sur- 
prise, as  the  whole  field  went  suddenly  off  helter- 
skelter  in  a  new  direction. 

"I  think  they've  seen  the  fox,"  replied  Stout- 
heart. 

"  Seen  the  fox  !  why,  I  forgot  all  about  the  fox  ! 
But — but  haven't  we  seen  it  before  ?  haven't  we 
been  after  it  all  day  ?" 

"  No,  we  Ve  only  got  scent  of  it  once  or  twice." 

"  Well,  well,"  exclaimed  Queeker,  turning  up  his 
eyes,  "  I  declare  we  have  had  as  good  fun  as  if  we 
had  been  after  the  fox  in  full  sight  all  the  time !" 

"  Here  is  a  somewhat  peculiar  leap,"  said  Stout- 
heart,  reining  up  as  they  approached  a  fence,  on  the 
other  side  of  which  was  a  high-road,  "  I  '11  go  first,  to ' 
show  you  the  way." 

The  peculiarity  of  the  leap  lay  in  the  fact  that  it 
was  a  drop  of  about  four  feet  into  the  road,  which 
was  lower,  to  that  extent,  than  the  field,  and  that  the 
side  of  the  road  into  which  the  riders  had  to  drop 
was  covered  with  scrubby  bushes.  To  men  accus- 
tomed to  it  this  was  a  trifle.  Most  of  the  field  had 
already  taken  it,  though  a  few  cautious  riders  had 
gone  round  by  a  gate. 


228  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

When  Queeker  came  to  try  it  he  felt  uneasy — 
sitting  as  he  did  so  high,  and  looking  down  such  a 
precipice  as  it  seemed  to  him.  However,  he  shut 
his  eyes,  and  courageously  gave  the  accustomed 
chirp,  and  Slapover  •  plunged  down.  Queeker  held 
tight  to  the  saddle,  and  although  much  shaken, 
would  have  come  out  of  the  ordeal  al!.  right,  had  not 
Slapover  taken  it  into  his  head  to  make  a  second 
spring  over  a  low  bush  which  stood  in  front  of  him. 
On  the  other  side  of  this  bush  there  was  an  old 
pump.  Queeker  lost  his  balance,  threw  out  his 
arms,  fell  off,  was  hurled  violently  against  the  old 
pump,  and  his  right  leg  was  broken  ! 

A  cart  was  quickly  procured,  and  on  trusses  of 
straw  the  poor  huntsman  was  driven,  sadly  and 
slowly,  back  to  Jenkinsjoy,  where  he  was  tenderly 
put  to  bed  and  carefully  nursed  for  several  weeks 
by  his  hospitable  and  sympathizing  friends. 

Queeker  bore  his  misfortune  like  a  Stoic,  chiefly 
because  it  developed  the  great  fact  that  Fanny 
Hennings  wept  a  whole  night  and  a  day  after  its 
occurrence,  insomuch  that  her  fair  face  became  so 
swollen  as  to  have  lost  much  of  its  identity  and  all 
its  beauty — a  fact  which  filled  Queeker  with  hopes 
so  high  that  his  recovery  was  greatly  hastened  by 
the  contented,  almost  joyous,  manner  in  which  he 
submitted  to  his  fate. 

Of  course  Queeker's  secret  mission  was,  for  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         229 

time  being,  at  an  end ; — -and  thus  it  came  to  pass  that 
an  old  pump,  as  we  said  at  the  beginning  of  this 
chapter,  was  the  cause  of  the  failure  of  several  deep- 
laid  plans,  and  of  much  bodily  anguish  and  mental 
felicity  to  the  youthful  Nimrod. 

Queeker's  last  observation  before  falling  into  a 
feverish  slumber  on  the  first  night  after  his  accident, 
was  to  the  effect  that  fox-hunting  was  splendid  sport 
— magnificent  sport, — but  that  it  appeared  to  him 
there  was  no  occasion  whatever  for  a  fox.  And  ever 
after  that  he  was  wont  to  boast  that  his  first  and  last 
day  of  fox-hunting,  which  was  an  unusually  exciting- 
one,  had  been  got  through  charmingly  without  any 
fox  at  all.  It  is  even  said  thatt  Queeker,  descending 
from  poetry, — his  proper  sphere, — to  prose,  wrote  an 
elaborate  and  interesting  paper  on  that  subject,  which 
was  refused  by  all  the  sporting  papers  and  journals 
to  which  he  sent  it ; — but,  this  not  being  certified, 
we  do  not  record  it  as  a  fact. 


230  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTEE   XIV. 

THE  LAMPLIGHTER  AT  HOME,  AND  THREATENING  APPEARANCES. 

WE  turn  now  to  a  very  different  scene  —the  pier 
and  harbour  of  Bamsgate.  The  storm-fiend  is 
abroad.  Thick  clouds  of  a  dark  leaden  hue  drive 
athwart  a  sky  of  dingy  grey,  ever  varying  their 
edges,  and  rolling  out  limbs  and  branches  in  random 
fashion,  as  if  they  were  fleeing  before  the  wind  in 
abject  terror.  The  wind,  however,  is  chiefly  in  the 
sky  as  yet.  Down  below  there  are  only  fitful  puffs 
now  and  then,  telling  of  something  else  in  store. 
The  sea  is  black,  with  sufficient  swell  on  it  to  cause 
a  few  crested  waves  here  and  there  to  gleam  in- 
tensely white  by  contrast.  It  is  early  in  the  day, 
nevertheless  there  is  a  peculiar  darkness  in  the 
atmosphere  which  suggests  the  approach  of  night. 
Numerous  vessels  in  the  offing  are  making  with  all 
speed  for  Eamsgate  harbour,  which  is  truly  and 
deservedly  named  a  "  harbour  of  refuge,"  for  already 
some  two  dozen  ships  of  considerable  size,  and  a  large 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          231 

fleet  of  small  craft,  have  sought  and  found  shelter 
on  a  coast  which  in  certain  conditions  of  the  wind 
is  fraught  with  danger.-  About  the  stores  near  the 
piers,  Trinity  men  are  busy  with  buoys,  anchors, 
and  cables ;  elsewhere  labourers  are  toiling,  idlers 
are  loafing,  and  lifeboat-men  are  lounging  about, 
leaning  on  the  parapets,  looking  wistfully  out  to  sea, 
with  and  without  telescopes,  from  the  sheer  force  of 
habit,  and  commenting  on  the  weather.  The  broad, 
bronzed,  storm- battered  coxswain  of  the  celebrated 
Eamsgate  lifeboat,  who  seems  to  possess  the  power 
of  feeding  and  growing  strong  on  hardship  and  ex- 
posure, is  walking  about  at  the  end  of  the  east  pier, 
contemplating  the  horizon  in  the  direction  of  the 
Goodwin  Sands  with  the  serious  air  of  a  man  who 
expects  ere  long  to  be  called  into  action. 

The  harbour-master — who  is,  and  certainly  had 
need  be,  a  man  of  brain  as  well  as  muscle  and  energy, 
to  keep  the  conflicting  elements  around  him  in  order 
— Amoves  about  actively,  making  preparation  for  the 
expected  gale. 

Early  on  the  morning  pf  the  day  referred  to,  Nora 
Jones  threaded  her  way  among  the  stalls  of  the 
marketplace  under  the  town-hall,  as  if  she  were  in 
search  of  some  one.  Not  succeeding  in  her  search, 
she  walked  briskly  along  one  of  the  main  thorough- 
fares of  the  town,  and  diverged  into  a  narrow  street, 
which  appeared  to  have  retired  modestly  into  a 


232  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

corner  in  order  to  escape  observation.  At  the  farther 
end  of  this  little  street,  she  knocked  at  the  door  of  a 
house,  the  cleanly  appearance  of  which  attested  the 
fact  that  its  owner  was  well-doing  and  orderly. 

Nora  knocked  gently ;  she  did  everything  gently  ! 

"Is  Mrs.  Moy  at  home?"  she  asked,  as  a  very 
bright  little  girl's  head  appeared 

No  sooner  was  Nora's  voice  heard  than  the  door 
was  flung  wide  open,  and  the  little  girl  exclaimed, 
"  Yes,  she  's  at  'ome,  and  daddy  too."  She  followed 
up  this  assurance  with  a  laugh  of  glee,  and,  seizing 
the  visitor's  hand,  dragged  her  into  the  house  by 
main  force. 

"Hallo,  Nora,  'ow  are  'ee,  gal?"  cried  a  deep  bass 
voice  from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  floor,  where  its 
owner  appeared  to  be  smothered  with  children,  for 
he  was  not  to  be  seen. 

Nora  looked  down  and  beheld  the  legs  and  boots 
of  a  big  man,  but  his  body  and  head  were  invisible, 
being  completely  covered  and  held  down  by  four 
daughters  and  five  sons,  one  of  the  former  being  a 
baby,  and  one  of  the  latter  «,n  infant. 

Dick  Moy,  who  was  enjoying  his  month  on  shore, 
rose  as  a  man  might  rise  from  a  long  dive,  flung 
out  his  great  right  arm,  scattered  the  children  like 
flecks  of  foam,  and  sat  up  with  a  beaming  counte- 
nance, holding  the  infant  tenderly  in  his  left  arm. 
The  baby  had  been  cast  under  the  table,  where  it 


DICK   MOY  AT  HOME.-PAOE  232. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         233 

lay,  helpless  apparently,  and  howling.  It  had 
passed  the  most  tender  period  of  life,  and  had 
entered  on  that  stage  when  knocks,  cuts,  yells,  and 
bruises  are  the  order  of  the  day. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Nora,"  said  the  man  of  the 
floating  light,  extending  his  huge  hand,  which  the 
girl  grasped  and  shook  warmly.  "  You  '11  excuse  me 
not  bein'  more  purlite.  I  'm  oppressed  with  child'n, 
as  you  see.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  'd  gone  an'  got 
spliced  to  that  there  'ooman  in  the  story-book  wot 
lived  in  the  shoe,  an'  had  so  many  child'n  she  didn't 
know  wot  to  do.  If  so,  she  knows  wot  to  do  now. 
She 's  only  got  to  hand  'em  over  to  poor  Dick  Moy, 
an'  leave  him  to  suffer  the  consickences. — Ah,  'ere 
she  comes." 

Dick  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  handed  a  chair  to 
Nora  at  the  moment  that  his  better,  but  lesser,  half 
entered. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Dick  said  all  this 
without  interruption.  On  the  contrary,  he  bawled 
it  out  in  the  voice  of  a  bo'sn's  mate,  while  the  four 
daughters  and  five  sons,  including  the  baby  and  the 
infant,  crawled  up  his  legs  and  clung  to  his  pockets, 
and  enacted  Babel  on  a  small  scale. 

Mrs.  Moy  was  a  very  pretty,  tidy,  cheerful  little 
woman,  of  the  fat,  fair,  and  forty  description,  save 
that  she  was  nearer  thirty-five  than  forty.  It  was 
clear  at  a  glance  that  she  and  Dick  had  been  made 


234  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

for  each  other,  and  that,  had  either  married  anybody 
else,  each  would  have  done  irreparable  damage  to 
the  other. 

"  Sit  down,  Nora.  I  'm  so  glad  to  see  you.  Come 
to  breakfast,  I  hope  ?  we're  just  going  to  have  it." 

Mrs.  Moy  said  this  as  if  she  really  meant  it,  and 
would  be  terribly  disappointed  if  she  met  with  a 
refusal  Nora  tried  to  speak,  but  Babel  was  too 
much  for  her. 

"  Silence  !"  burst  from  Dick,  as  if  a  small  cannon 
had  gone  off  in  the  room. 

Babel  was  hushed. 

"  Mum  's  the  word  for  three  minutes"  said  Dick, 
pointing  to  a  huge  Yankee  clock  which  stood  on  the 
chimney-piece,  with  a  model  frigate  in  a  glass  case, 
and  a  painted  sea  and  sky  on  one  side  of  it,  and  a 
model  light-vessel  in  a  glass  case,  and  a  painted  sea 
and  sky  on  the  other. 

There  was  profound  wisdom  in  this  arrangement. 
If  Dick  had  ordered  silence  for  an  indefinite  space 
of  time,  there  would  have  been  discontent,  approxi- 
mating to  despair,  in  Babel's  bosom,  and,  therefore, 
strong  temptation  to  rebellion.  But  three  minutes 
embraced  a  fixef  and  known  period  of  time.  The 
result  was  a  desperate  effort  a.t  restraint,  mingled 
with  gleeful  anticipation.  The  elder  children  who 
could  read  the  clock  stared  eagerly  at  the  Yankee 
time-piece ;  the  younger  ones  who  couldn't  read  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          235 

clock,  but  who  knew  that  the  others  could,  stared 
intently  at  their  seniors,  and  awaited  the  signal. 
With  the  exception  of  hard  breathing,  the  silence 
was  complete ;  the  baby  being  spell-bound  by 
example,  and  the  feeble  remarks  of  the  infant — 
which  had  been  transferred  to  the  arms  of  the  eldest 
girl — making  no  impression  worth  speaking  o£ 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Nora,  "  I  '11  stay 
breakfast  with  pleasure.  Grandmother  won't  be  up 
for  an  hour  yet,  and  father's  not  at  home  just 
now."  • 

"Werry  good,"  said  Dick,  taking  a  short  black 
pipe  out  of  his  coat- pocket,  "  that 's  all  right.  And 
/ow  do  'ee  like  Eanisgate,  Nora,  now  you  've  had  a 
fair  trial  of  it  ?" 

"  I  think  I  like  it  better  than  Yarmouth ;  but 
perhaps  that  is  because  we  live  in  a  more  airy  and 
cheerful  street.  I  would  not  have  troubled  you  so 
early,  Mr.  Moy — ("  'T  ain't  no  trouble  at  all,  Nora ; 
werry  much  the  reverse  ") — but  that  I  am  anxious 
to  hear  how  you  got  on  with  poor  Billy — " 

At  this  point  Babel  burst  forth  with  redoubled 
fury.  Dick  was  attacked  and  carried  by  storm ;  the 
short  black  pipe  was  seized,  and  an  old  hat  was- 
clapped  on  his  head  and  thrust  down  over  his  eyes ! 
He  gave  in  at  once,  and  submitted  with  resignation. 
He  struck  his  colours,  so  to  speak,  without  firing  a 
shot,  and  for  full  h' ve  minutes  breasted  the  billows 


236  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

of  a  sea  of  children  manfully,  while  smart  Mrs.  Moy 
spread  the  breakfast-table  as  quietly  as  if  nothing 
were  going  on,  and  Nora -sat  and  smiled  at  them. 

Suddenly  Dick  rose  for  the  second  time  from  his 
dive,  flung  off  the  foam,  tossed  aside  the  baby, 
rescued  the  infant  from  impending  destruction,  and 
thundered  "  Silence !  mum 's  the  word  for  three 
minutes  more." 

"  That 's  six,  daddy ! "  cried  the  eldest  boy,  whose 
spirit  of  opposition  was  growing  so  strong  that  he 
could  not  help  indulging  it,  even  against  his  own 
interests. 

"  No,"  said  Dick  sternly. 

"  It  was  three  minutes  last  time,"  urged  the  boy ; 
"  an'  you  said  three  minutes  more  this  time ;  three 
minutes  more  than  three  minutes  is  six  minutes, 
ain't  it?" 

"  Three  minutes,"  repeated  Dick,  holding  up  a 
warning  finger. 

Babel  ceased ;  the  nine  pair  of  eyes  (excepting 
those  of  the  infant)  became  fixed,  and  Nora  pro- 
ceeded— 

"I  wanted  to  hear  how  you  got  on  with  Billy. 
Did  they  take  him  in  at  once?  and  what  sort  of 
place  is  the  Grotto  ?  You  see  I  am  naturally  anxious 
to  know,  because  it  was  a  terrible  thing  to  send  a 
poor  boy  away  from  his  only  friend  among  strangers 
at  such  an  age,  arid  just  after  recovering  from  a  bad 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          237 

illness;  but  you  know  I  could  not  do  otherwise. 
It  would  have  been  his  ruin  to  have — " 

She  paused. 

"To  have  stopped  where  he  was,  I  s'pose  you 
would  say?"  observed  Dick.  "Well,  I  ain't  sure 
o'  that,  Nora.  It 's  quite  true  that  the  bad  company 
he  'd  'ave  seen  would  'ave  bin  against  'im ;  but  to 
'ave  you  for  his  guardian  hangel  might  'ave  counter- 
acted that.  It  would  'ave  bin  like  the  soda  to  the 
hacid,  a  fizz  at  first  and  all  square  arterwards. 
Hows'ever,  that  don't  signify  now,  cos  he's  all  right. 
I  tuk  him  to  the  Grotto,  the  werry  first  thing  arter 
I  'd  bin  to  the  Trinity  'ouse,  and  seed  him  cast  anchor 
there  all  right,  and — " 

Again  Babel  burst  forth,  and  riot  reigned  supreme 
for  five  minutes  more.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
silence  was  proclaimed  as  before. 

"  Now  then,"  said  Dick,  "  breakfast  bein'  ready, 
place  the  chairs." 

The  three  elder  children  obeyed  this  order. 
Each  member  of  this  peculiar  household  had  been 
"  told  off,"  as  Dick  expressed  it,  to  a  special  duty, 
which  was  performed  wi,th  all  the  precision  of  dis- 
cipline characteristic  of  a  man-of-war. 

"  That 's  all  right ;  now  go  in  and  win/'  said  Dick. 

There  was  no  occasion  to  appeal  to  the  Yankee 
clock  now.  Tongues  and  throats  as  well  as  teeth 
and  jaws  were  too  fully  occupied.  Babel  succumbed 


238  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

for  full  quarter  of  an  hour,  during  which  period  Dick 
Moy  related  to  Nora  the  circumstances  connected 
with  a  recent  visit  to  London,  whither  he  had  been 
summoned  as  a  witness  in  a  criminal  trial,  and  to 
which,  at  Nora's  earnest  entreaty,  and  with  the  boy's 
unwilling  consent,  he  had  conveyed  Billy  Towler. 
We  say  unwilling,  because  Billy,  during  his  long 
period  of  convalescence,  had  been  so  won  by  the 
kindness  of  Nora,  that  the  last  thing  in  the  world  he 
would  have  consented  to  bear  was  separation  from 
her ;  but,  on  thinking  over  it,  he  was  met  by  this 
insurmountable  difficulty — that  the  last  thing  in  the 
world  he  would  consent  to  do  was  to  disobey  her ! 
Between  these  two  influences  he  went  unwillingly 
to  London — for  the  sake  of  his  education,  as  Nora 
said  to  him — for  the  sake  of  being  freed  from  the 
evil  influence  of  her  father's  example,  as  poor  Nora 
was  compelled  to  admit  to  herself. 

"  The  Grotto,"  said  Dick,  speaking  as  well  as  he 
could  through  an  immense  mouthful  of  bacon  and 
bread,  "  is  an  institootion  which  I  'ave  reason  for  to 
believe  desarves  well  of  its  country.  It  is  an  insti- 
tootion sitooate  in  Paddington  Street,  Marylebone, 
where  homeless  child'n,  as  would  otherwise  come  to 
the  gallows,  is  took  in  an'  saved — saved  not  only  from 
sin  an'  misery  themselves,  but  saved  from  inflictiu' 
the  same  on  society.  I  do  assure  you"  said  Dick, 
striking  the  table  with  his  fist  in  his  enthusiasm, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  239 

so  that  the  crockery  jumped,  and  some  of  the  chil- 
dren almost  choked  by  reason  of  their  food  going 
down  what  they  styled  their  "  wrong  throats" — "  I 
do  assure  you,  that  it  would  'ave  done  yer  'art 
good  to  'ave  seed  'm,  as  I  did  the  day  I  went  there, 
so  clean  and  comf'r'able  and  'appy — no  mistake 
about  that.  Their  'appiness  was  genooine.  Wot 
made  it  come  'ome  to  me  was,  that  I  seed  there  a 
little  boy  as  I  'appened  to  know  was  one  o'  the 
dirtiest,  wickedest,  sharpest  little  wiUains  in  London 
— a  mere  spider  to  look  at,  but  with  mischief  enough 
to  fill  a  six-fut  man  to  bu'stin' — an'  there  'ee  was, 
clean  an'  jolly,  larnin'  his  lessons  like  a  good  un — 
an'  no  sham  neither,  cos  'e  'd  got  a  good  spice  o'  the 
mischief  left,  as  was  pretty  clear  from  the  way  'ee 
gave  a  sly  pinch  or  pull  o'  the  hair  now  an'  again  to 
the  boys  next  him,  an'  drawed  monkey-faces  on  his 
slate.  But  that  spider,  I  wos  told,  could  do  figurin' 
like  one  o'clock,  an'  could  spell  like  Johnson's  Dic- 
tionairy. 

"Well,"  continued  Dick,  after  a  few  moments' 
devotion  to  a  bowl  of  coffee,  "  I  'anded  Billy  Towler 
over  to  the  superintendent,  tellin'  'im  'ee  wos  a  'ome- 
less  boy  as  'adn't  got  no  parients  nor  relations,  an' 
wos  werry  much  in  need  o'  bein'  looked  arter.  So 
'ee  took  'im  in,  an'  I  bade  him  good-bye." 

Dick  Moy  then  went  on  to  tell  how  that  the 
superintendent  of  the  Grotto  showed  him  all  over 


240  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  place,  and  told  him  numerous  anecdotes  regard- 
ing the  boys  who  had  been  trained  there  ;  that  one 
had  gone  into  the  army  and  become  a  sergeant,  and 
had  written  many  long  interesting  letters  to  the  in- 
stitution, which  he  still  loved  as  being  his  early  and 
only  "  home ;"  that  another  had  become  an  artillery- 
man ;  another  a  man-of-war's  man ;  and  another  a 
city  missionary,  who  commended  the  blessed  gospel 
of  Jesus  Christ  to  those  very  outcasts  from  among 
whom  he  had  himself  been  plucked.  The  superin- 
tendent also  explained  to  his  rugged  but  much  inter- 
ested and  intelligent  visitor  that  they  had  a  flourishing 
Eagged  School  in  connection  with  the  institution ; 
also  a  Sunday-school  and  a  "Band  of  Hope" — 
which  latter  had  been  thought  particularly  neces^- 
sary,  because  they  found  that  many  of  the  neglected 
young  creatures  that  came  to  them  had  already  been 
tempted  and  taught  by  their  parents  and  by  publi- 
cans to  drink,  so  that  the  foundation  of  that  dread- 
ful craving  disease  had  been  laid,  and  those  desires 
had  begun  to  grow  which,  if  not  checked,  would 
certainly  end  in  swift  and  awful  destruction.  One 
blessed  result  of  this  was  that  the  children  had  not 
only  themselves  joined,  but  had  in  some  instances 
induced  their  drunken  parents  to  attend  the  weekly 
addresses. 

All  this,  and  a  great  deal  more,  was  related  by 
Dick  Moy  with  the  wonted  enthusiasm  and  energy 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         241 

of  his  big  nature,  and  with  much  gesticulation  of  his 
tremendous  fist — to  the  evident  anxiety  of  Nora, 
who,  like  an  economical  housewife  as  she  was,  had  a 
feeling  of  tenderness  for  the  crockery,  even  although 
it  was  not  her  own.  Dick  wound  up  by  saying  that 
if  he  was  a  rich  man,  "  'ee  'd  give  some  of  'is  super- 
floous  cash  to  that  there  Grotto,  he  would." 

"  Perhaps  you  wouldn't,"  said  Nora.  "  I  Ve  heard 
one  rich  man  say  that  the  applications  made  to  him 
for  money  were  so  numerous  that  he  was  quite 
annoyed,  and  felt  as  if  he  was  goin'  to  become 
bankrupt !" 

"Nora,"  said  Dick,  smiting  the  table  emphati- 
cally, "  I  Jm  not  a  rich  man  myself,  an'  wot 's  more, 
I  never  'xpect  to  be,  so  I  can't  be  said  to  'ave  no 
personal  notions  at  all,  d'ye  see,  about  wot  they 
feels  ;  but  I  Ve  also  heerd  a  rich  man  give  'is  opinion 
on  that  pint,  and  I  Ve  no  manner  of  doubt  that  my 
rich  man  is  as  good  as  your  'n — better  for  the  matter 
of  that;  anyway  he  knowed  wot  was  wot.  Well, 
says  'ee  to  me,  w'en  I  went  an'  begged  parding  for 
axin'  'im  for  a  subscription  to  this  'ere  werry  Grotto 
— which,  by  the  way,  is  supported  by  woluntary  con- 
tribootions — 'ee  says,  '  Dick  Moy,'  says  'ee,  '  you  Ve 
no  occasion  for  to  ax  my  parding,'  says  'ee.  *  'Ere 's 
'ow  it  is.  I  Ve  got  so  much  cash  to  spare  out  of  my 
hincome.  Werry  good ;  I  goes  an'  writes  down  a  list 
of  all  the  charities.  First  of  all  comes  the  church 

Q 


242  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

— which  ain't  a  charity,  by  the  way,  but  a  debt 
owin'  to  the  Lord — an'  the  missionary  societies,  an' 
the  Lifeboat  Institootion,  an'  the  Shipwrecked  Mar- 
riners'  Society,  and  such  like,  which  are  the  great 
National  institootions  of  the  country  that  every  Chris- 
tian ought  to  give  a  helpin'  'and  to.  Then  th^re  's 
the  poor  among  one's  own  relations  and  friends; 
then  the  hospitals  an'  various  charities  o'  the  city  or 
town  in  which  one  dwells,  and  the  poor  of  the  same. 
Well,  arter  that 's  all  down,'  says  'ee,  '  I  consider 
w'ich  o'  them  ere  desarves  an'  needs  most  support 
from  me  ;  an'  so  I  claps  down  somethin'  to  each,  an' 
adds  it  all  up,  an'  wot  is  left  over  I  holds  ready  for 
chance  applicants.  If  their  causes  are  good  I  give 
to  'em  heartily  ;  if  not,  I  bow  'em  politely  out  o'  the 
'ouse.  That's  w'ere  it  is/  says  'ee.  'An'  do  you 
know,  Dick  Moy/  says  'ee,  'the  first  time  I  tried 
that  plan,  and  put  down  wot  I  thought  a  fair  liberal 
sum  to  each,  I  wos  amazed — I  wos  stunned  for  to 
find  that  the  total  wos  so  small  and  left  so  werry 
much  of  my  spare  cash  yet  to  be  disposed  of,  so 
I  went  over  it  all  again,  and  had  to  double  and 
treble  the  amount  to  be  given  to  each.  Ah,  Dick/ 
says  my  rich  man,  '  if  people  who  don't  keep  cash- 
books  would  only  mark  down  wot  they  think  they 
can  afford  to  give  away  in  a  year,  an'  wot  they  do 
give  away,  they  would  be  surprised.  It's  not 
always  unwillingness  to  give  that 's  the  evil.  Often 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          243 

it 's  ignorance  o'  what  is  actooally  given — no  account 
bein'  kep'.' 

" '  "Wot  d'  ye  think,  Dick,'  my  rich  man  goes  on  to 
say,  '  there  are  some  churches  in  this  country  which 
are  dependent  on  the  people  for  support,  an'  the 
contents  o'  the  plates  at  the  doors  o'  these  churches 
on  Sundays  is  used  partly  for  cleanin'  and  lightin' 
of  'em  ;  partly  for  payin'  their  precentors,  and  partly 
for  repairs  to  the  buildins,  and  partly  for  helpin' 
out  the  small  incomes  of  their  ministers;  an'  wot 
d'ye  think  most  c'  the  people — not  many  but  most 
of  'em — gives  a  week,  Dick,  for  such  important 
purposes  ?' 

" '  I  don'  know,  sir/  says  I. 

" '  One  penny,  Dick,'  says  'ee,  '  which  comes  ex- 
actly to  four  shillins  and  fourpence  a  year,'  says  'ee. 
'  An'  they  ain't  paupers,  Dick  !  If  they  wos  paupers, 
it  wouldn't  be  a  big  sum  for  'em  to  give  out  o'  any 
pocket-money  they  might  chance  to  git  from  their 
pauper  friends,  but  they  're  well-dressed  people,  Dick, 
and  they  seems  to  be  well  off !  Four  an'  fourpence 
a  year  !  think  o'  that — not  to  mention  the  deduction 
w'en  they  goes  for  a  month  or  two  to  the  country 
each  summer.  Four  an'  fourpence  a  year,  Dick ! 
Some  of  'eni  even  goes  so  low  as  a  halfpenny,  which 
makes  two  an'  twopence  a  year — £7,  11s.  8d.  in  a 
seventy-year  lifetime,  Dick,  supposin'  their  liberality 
began  to  ilow  the  day  they  wos  born !' 


244  THE  FLOATING* LIGHT 

"At  this  my  rich  man  fell  to  laughing  till  I 
thought  'ee  'd  a  busted  hisself ;  but  he  pulled  up  sud- 
den, an'  axed  me  all  about  the  Grotto,  and  said  it  was 
a  first-rate  institootion,  an'  gave  me  a  ten-pun'  note 
on  the  spot.  Now,  Nora,  my  rich  man  is  a  friend 
o'  yours — Mr.  Durant,  of  Yarmouth,  who  came  to 
Ramsgate  a  short  time  ago  for  to  spend  the  autumn, 
an'  I  got  introdooced  to  him  through  knowin'  Jim 
Welton,  who  got  aboord  of  one  of  his  ships  through 
knowin'  young  Mr.  Stanley  Hall,  d'  ye  see  ?  That 's 
where  it  is." 

After  this  somewhat  lengthened  speech,  Dick  Moy 
swallowed  a  slop-bowlful  of  coffee  at  a  draught — he 
always  used  a  slop-bowl — and  applied  himself  with 
renewed  zest  to  a  Norfolk  dumpling,  in  the  making 
of  which  delicacy  his  wife  had  no  equal. 

"  I  believe  that  Mr.  Durant  is  a  kind  good  man," 
said  Nora,  feeding  the  infant  with  a  crust  dipped  in 
milk,  "and  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  has  got  the 
sweetest  daughter  that  ever  a  man  was  blessed  with 
— Miss  Katie  ;  you  know  her,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  'Aven't  seed  'er  yet,"  was  Dick's  curt  reply. 

"  She 's  a  dear  creature,"  continued  Nora — still 
doing  her  best  to  choke  the  infant — "  she  found 
out  where  I  lived  while  she  was  in  search  of  a  sick 
boy  in  Yarmouth,  who,  she  said,  was  the  brother  of 
a  poor  ragged  boy  named  Billy  Towler,  she  had  once 
met  with.  Of  course  I  had  to  tell  her  that  Billy 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          245 

had  been  deceiving  her  and  had  no  brother.  Oh  ! 
you  should  have  seen,  her  kind  face,  Dick,  when  I 
told  her  this.  I  do  think  that  up  to  that  time  she 
had  lived  under  the  belief  that  a  young  boy  with 
a  good-looking  face  and  an  honest  look  could  not 
be  a  deceiver." 

"  Poor  thing,"  said  Dick,  with  a  sad  shake  of  the 
head,  as  if  pitying  her  ignorance. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Nora — still  attempting  to  choke 
the  infant — "  she  could  not  say  a  word  at  that  time, 
but  went  away  with  her  eyes  full  of  tears.  I  saw 
her  often  afterwards,  and  tried  to  convince  her  there 
might  be  some  good  in  Billy  after  all,  but  she  was 
not  easily  encouraged,  for  her  belief  in  appearances 
had  got  a  shake  that  she  seemed  to  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  get  over.  That  was  when  Billy  was  lying 
ill  in  hospital.  I  have  not  seen  much  of  her  since 
then,  she  and  her  father  having  been  away  in 
London." 

"  H'm,  I'm  raither  inclined  to  jine  her  in  think- 
in'  that  no  good  '11  come  o'  that  young  scamp.  He 's 
too  sharp  by  half,"  said  Dick  with  a  frown.  "  De- 
pend upon  it,  Nora,  w'en  a  boy  'as  gone  a  great 
length  in  wickedness  there 's  no  chance  o'  reclaimm' 
him." 

"  Dick,"  exclaimed  Nora,  with  sudden  energy, 
"  depend  upon  it  that  that 's  not  true,  for  it  does 
not  correspond  with  the  Bible,  which  says  that  our 


246  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Lord  came  not  to  call  the  righteous  but  sinners  to 
repentance." 

"There's  truth  in  that,  anyhow,"  replied  Dick, 
gazing  thoughtfully  into  Nora's  countenance,  as  if 
the  truth  had  come  home  to  him  for  the  first  time. 
What  his  further  observations  on  the  point  might 
have  been  we  know  not,  as  at  that  moment  the  door 
opened  and  one  of  his  mates  entered,  saying  that  he 
had  come  to  go  down  with  him  to  the  buoy-store,  as 
the  superintendent  had  given  orders  that  he  and 
Moy  should  overhaul  the  old  North  Goodwin  buoy, 
and  give  her  a  fresh  coat  of  paint.  Dick  therefore 
rose,  wiped  his  mouth,  kissed  the  entire  family, 
beginning  with  the  infant  and  ending  with  "the 
missis,"  after  which  he  shook  hands  with  Nora  and 
went  out. 

The  storm  which  had  for  some  time  past  been 
brewing,  had  fairly  brewed  itself  up  at  last,  and  the 
wild  sea  was  covered  with  foam.  Although  only  an 
early  autumn  storm,  it  was,  like  many  a  thing  out  of 
season,  not  the  less  violent  on  that  account.  It  was 
one  of  the  few  autumn  storms  that  might  have  been 
transferred  to  winter  with  perfect  propriety.  It 
performed  its  work  of  devastation  as  effectively  as 
though  it  had  come  forth  at  its  proper  season.  On 
land  chimney  stacks  and  trees  were  levelled.  At 
sea  vessels  great  and  small  were  dismasted  and 
destroyed,  and  the  east  coast  of  the  kingdom  was 


OP  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  247 

strewn  with  wreckage  and  dead  bodies.  Full  many 
a  noble  ship  went  down  that  night !  Wealth  that 
might  have  supported"  all  the  charities  in  London 
for  a  twelvemonth  was  sent  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea 
that  night  and  lost  for  ever.  Lives  that  had  scarce 
begun  and  lives  that  were  all  but  done,  were  cut 
abruptly  short,  leaving  broken  hearts  and  darkened 
lives  in  many  a  home,  not  only  on  the  sea-caast  but 
inland,  where  the  sound  of  the  great  sea's  roar  is 
never  heard.  Deeds  of  daring  were  done  that  night, 
— by  men  of  the  lifeboat  service  and  the  coast-guard, 
— which  seemed  almost  beyond  the  might  of  human 
skill  and  courage — resulting  in  lives  saved  from  that 
same  great  sea — lives  young  and  lives  old — the  sal- 
vation of  which  caused  many  a  heart  in  the  land, 
from  that  night  forward,  to  bless  God  and  sing  for 

joy- 
But  of  all  the  wide-spread  and  far-reaching  tur- 
moil ;  the  wreck  and  rescue,  the  rending  and  relieving 
of  hearts,  the  desperate  daring,  and  dread  disasters 
of  that  night  we  shall  say  nothing  at  all,  save  in 
regard  to  that  which  occurred  on  and  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Goodwin  Sands. 


248  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A  NIGHT  OP  WRECK  AND  DISASTER— THE  GULL  "  COMES  TO  GRIEF." 

WHEN  the  storm  began  to  brew  that  night,  George 
Welton,  the  mate  of  the  floating  light,  walked  the 
deck  of  his  boiled-lobster-like  vessel,  and  examined 
the  sky  and  sea  with  that  critical  expression  pecu- 
liar to  seafaring  men,  which  conveys  to  landsmen 
the  reassuring  impression  that  they  know  exactly 
what  is  coming,  precisely  what  ought  to  be  done, 
and  certainly  what  will  be  the  result  of  whatever 
happens ! 

After  some  minutes  spent  in  profound  meditation, 
during  which  Mr.  Welton  frowned  inquiringly  at 
the  dark  driving  clouds  above  him,  he  said,  "  It  '11 
be  pretty  stiff." 

This  remark  was  made  to  himself,  or  to  the  clouds, 
but,  happening  to  be  overheard  by  Jerry  MacGowl, 
who  was  at  his  elbow,  it  was  answered  by  that 
excellent  man. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  249 

"  True  for  ye  ;  it  11  blow  great  guns  before  mid- 
night. The  sands  is  showin3  their  teeth  already." 

The  latter  part  of  this  remark  had  reference 
to  brilliant  white  lines  and  dots  on  the  seaward 
horizon,  which  indicated  breakers  on  the  Goodwin 
sands. 

"  Luk  at  that  now,"  said  Jerry,  pointing  to  one  of 
those  huge  clumsy  vessels  that  are  so  frequently 
met  with  at  sea,  even  in  the  present  day,  as  to  lead 
one  to  imagine  that  some  of  the  shipbuilders  in  the 
time  of  Noah  must  have  come  alive  again  and  gone 
to  work  at  their  old  trade  on  the  old  plans  and  draw- 
ings. "  Luk  at  that,  now.  Did  iver  ye  see  sitch  a 
tub — straight  up  and  down  the  side,  and  as  big  at 
the  bow  as  the  stern." 

"She's  not  clipper  built,"  answered  the  mate; 
"  they  make  that  sort  o'  ship  by  the  mile  and  sell 
her  by  the  fathom, — cuttin'  off  from  the  piece  just 
what  is  required.  It  don't  take  long  to  plaster  up 
the  ends  and  stick  a  mast  or  two  into  'em." 

"  It 's  in  luck  she  is  to  git  into  the  Downs  before 
the  gale  breaks,  and  it 's  to  be  hoped  she  has  good 
ground-tackle,"  said  Jerry. 

The  mate  hoped  so  too  in  a  careless  way,  and, 
remarking  that  he  would  go  and  see  that  all  was 
made  snug,  went  forward. 

At  that  moment  there  came  up  the  fore-hatch  a 
yell,  as  if  from  the  throat  of  a  North  American 


250  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

savage.     It  terminated  in  the  couplet,   tunefully 
sung — 

"  Oh  my !  oh  my  ! 
O  mammy,  don't  you  let  the  baby  cry  !" 

Jack  Shales,  following  his  voice,  immediately  after 
came  on  deck. 

"  Have  'ee  got  that  work-box  done  ?"  asked  Jerry 
as  his  mate  joined  him. 

"  Not  quite  done  yet,  boy,  but  I  '11  get  it  finished 
after  the  lights  are  up.  Duty  first,  pleasure-  after- 
wards, you  know." 

"Come  now,  Jack,  confess  that  you're  makin' it 
for  a  pretty  girl." 

"  Well,  so  I  am,  but  it  ain't  for  my  own  pretty 
girl  It's  for  that  sweet  little  Nora  Jones,  who 
came  lately  to  live  in  Eamsgate.  You  see  I  know 
she 's  goin'  to  be  spliced  to  Jim  Welton,  and  as  Jim 
is  a  good  sort  of  fellow,  I  want  to  make  this  little 
gift  to  his  future  bride." 

The  gift  referred  to  was  a  well-made  work-box, 
such  as  the  men  Of  the  floating  light  were  at  that 
time,  and  doubtless  still  are,  in  the  habit  of  con- 
structing in  leisure  hours.  It  was  beautifully  inlaid 
•with  wood  of  various  kinds  and  colours,  and  pos- 
sessed a  mark  peculiarly  characteristic  of  floating- 
light  boxes  and  desks,  namely,  two  flags  inlaid 
on  the  lid — one  of  these  being  the  Union  Jack. 
Most  of  the  men  on  board  displayed  much  skill 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          251 

and  taste  in  the  making  of  those  boxes  and  desks, 
although  they  were  all  self-taught,  and  wrought 
with  very  simple  tools  in  a  not  very  commodious 
workshop. 

"  A  great  change  from  yesterday  in  the  look  o' 
things,  Jerry,"  observed  Shales,  surveying  the  Downs, 
where,  despite  the  stiff  and  ever  increasing  breeze 
amounting  almost  to  a  gale,  numerous  little  pilot- 
boats  were  seen  dancing  on  the  waves,  showing  a 
mere  shred  of  canvas,  and  looking  out  for  a  job. 
"  Yesterday  was  all  sunshine  and  calm,  with  pleasure- 
boats  round  us,  and  visitors  heaving  noospapers 
aboard.  To- day  it's  all  gloom,  with  gales  brewin' 
and  pilots  bobbin'  about  like  Mother  Gary's  chickens." 

"  That 's  true,  Jack,"  replied  Jerry,  whose  poetic 
soul  was  fired  by  the  thought : — 

"  '  Timpest  an'  turmoil  to-day, 

With  lots  o'  salt-wather  an'  sorrow. 
Blue  little  waves  on  the  say, 

An'  suiiny  contintment  to-morrow.' 

That 's  how  it  is,  Jack,  me  boy,  all  the  world  over — 
even  in  owld  Ireland  hersilf;  an'  sure  if  there's 
pace  to  be  found  on  earth  it 's  there  it 's  to  be  dis- 
kivered." 

"  Eight,  Jerry,  peace  is  to  "be  discovered  there,  but 
I  'm  afraid  it 's  in  a  very  distant  future  as  yet,"  said 
Jack  with  a  laugh. 

"  All  in  good  time,"  retorted  Jerry. 


252  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"Up  lights!"  called  the  mate  down  the  hatch- 
way. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  came  in  chorus  from  below. 

Desks  and  boxes  were  thrust  aside,  the  wincli 
was  manned,  and  the  weighty  lantern  mounted 
slowly  to  its  nocturnal  watch-tower. 

Its  red  eye  flashed  upon  a  dark  scene.  The  gloom 
of  approaching  night  was  deepened  by  the  inky 
clouds  that  obscured  the  sky.  Thick  fog  banks 
came  sweeping  past  at  intervals;  a  cold  north-easterly 
gale  conveyed  a  wintry  feeling  to  the  air.  Small 
thick  rain  fell  in  abundance,  and  everything  attested 
the  appropriateness  of  Jerry  MacG  owl's  observation, 
that  it  was  "  dirty  weather  intirely." 

The  floating  light  was  made  snug — in  other  words, 
prepared  for  action — by  having  a  good  many  more 
fathoms  of  her  chain  veered  out,  in  order  that  she 
might  strain  less  and  swing  more  freely.  Loose 
articles  were  secured  or  stowed  away.  Hatches 
were  battened  down,  and  many  other  little  nautical 
arrangements  made  which  it  would  require  a  seaman 
to  understand  as  well  as  to  describe  in  detail. 

As  the  evening  advanced  the  gale  increased  in 
violence  tenfold,  and  darkness  settled  down  like  an 
impenetrable  pall  over  land  and  sea.  The  roar  of 
breakers  on  the  Goodwin  Sands  became  so  loud 
that  it  was  sometimes  heard  on  board  the  Gull-light 
above  the  howling  of  the  tempest.  The  sea  rose 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         253 

so  much  and  ran  so  violently  among  the  conflicting 
currents  caused  by  wind,  tide,  and  sand-banks, 
that  the  Gull  plunged,  swooped,  and  tore  at  her 
cable  so  that  the  holding  of  it  might  have  appeared 
to  a  landsman  little  short  of  miraculous.  Hissing 
and  seething  at  the  opposition  she  offered,  the  larger 
waves  burst  over  her  bows,  and  swept  the  deck 
from  stem  to  stern ;  but  her  ample  scuppers  dis- 
charged it  quickly,  and  up  she  rose  again,  dripping 
from  the  flood,  to  face  and  fight  and  foil  each  suc- 
ceeding billow. 

High  on  the  mast,  swaying  vpldly  to  and  fro,  yet 
always  hanging  perpendicular  by  reason  of  a  simple 
mechanism,  the  lantern  threw  out  its  bright  beams, 
involving  the  vessel  and  the  foam- clad  boiling  sea 
in  a  circle  of  light  which  ended  in  darkness  pro- 
found, forming,  as  it  were,  a  bright  but  ghostly 
chamber  shut  in  with  walls  of  ebony,  and  revealing, 
in  all  its  appalling  reality,  the  fury  of  the  sea. 
What  horrors  lay  concealed  in  the  darkness  beyond 
no  one  could  certainly  know ;  but  the  watch  on 
board  the  Gull  could  form  from  past  experience  a 
pretty  good  conception  of  them,  as  they  cowered 
under  the  lee  of  the  bulwarks  and  looked  anxiously 
out  to  windward. 

Anxiously !  Ay,  there  was  cause  for  anxiety 
that  night.  The  risk  of  parting  from  their  cable  was 
something,  though  not  very  great ;  but  the  risk  of 


254  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

being  run  down  by  passing  or  driving  ships  during 
intervals  of  fog  was  much  greater,  and  the  necessity 
of  looking  out  for  signals  of  distress  was  urgent. 

It  was  a  night  of  warfare,  and  the  battle  had 
begun  early.  Mr.  "Welton's  record  of  the  earlier 
part  of  that  day  in  the  log  ran  thus  : — 

"  At  \  A.M.  calm,  with  misty  rain ;  at  8,  wind 
south-east,  light  breeze.  At  noon,  west- south- west, 
fresh  breeze  and  rain.  At  4  P.M.,  wind  south-west, 
fresh  gale  and  heavy  rain.  A  large  fleet  anchored 
in  the  Downs.  A  schooner  was  seen  to  anchor  in  a 
bad  place  about  thi^  time.  At  7,  wind  still  increas- 
ing. The  watch  observed  several  vessels  part  from 
their  anchors  and  proceed  to  Margate  Eoads.  At 
7.30  the  wind  flew  into  the  nor'-nor'-west,  and  blew 
a  hurricane." 

These  were  the  first  mutterings  of  the  fight  that 
had  begun. 

It  was  now  about  a  quarter  to  eight  P.M.  Jerry 
and  his  friend  Shales  were  cowering  behind  the 
bulwark  on  the  starboard  bow,  gazing  to  windward, 
but  scarce  able  to  keep  their  eyes  open  owing  to 
wind  and  spray.  Suddenly  a  large  object  was  seen 
looming  into  the  circle  of  light. 

"  Stand  by  !"  roared  Jerry  and  Jack,  with  start- 
ling vigour,  as  the  one  leaped  towards  the  tiller,  the 
other  to  the  companion-hatch ;  "  a  vessel  bearing 
down  on  our  hawse  !" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  255 

The  mate  and  men  rushed  on  deck  in  time  to  see 
a  large  ship  pass  close  to  the  bow  of  the  Gull. 
Jack  had  cast  loose  the  tiller,  because,  although  in 
ordinary  circumstances  the  helm  of  a  light-vessel  is 
of  no  use,  this  was  one  of  the  few  occasions  in  which 
it  could  be  of  service.  The  rush  of  the  tide  past  a 
ship  at  anchor  confers  upon  it  at  all  times,  except 
during  "  slack  water"  (i.e.,  when  the  tide  is  on  the 
turn),  the  power  of  steering,  so  that  she  can  be  made 
to  sheer  swiftly  to  port  or  starboard,  as  may  be 
required.  But  for  this  power,  floating  lights  would 
undoubtedly  be  run  into  more  frequently  than  they 
are. 

The  danger  being  over,  the  helm  was  again  made 
fast  amidships,  but  as  several  vessels  were  soon  after 
seen  sweeping  past — two  or  three  of  them  burning 
tar-barrels  and  "flare-lights"  for  assistance,  it 
became  evident  that  there  would  be  little  or  no  rest 
for  any  one  on  board  that  night.  The  mate  put  on 
his  oiled  coat,  trousers,  boots,  and  sou'wester,  and 
remained  on  deck. 

Between  eight  and  nine  o'clock  a  schooner  was 
seen  approaching.  She  came  out  of  surrounding 
darkness  like  a  dim  phantom,  and  was  apparently 
making  the  attempt  to  go  to  windward  of  the  float- 
ing light.  She  failed,  and  in  a  moment  was  bearing 
down  with  terrible  speed  right  upon  them. 

"  Starboard  your  helm  !"  shouted  the  mate,  at  the 


256  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

same  moment  springing  to  the  tiller  of  his  own 
vessel 

The  steersman  of  the  driving  vessel  fortunately 
heard  and  obeyed  the  order,  and  she  passed — but 
shaved  the  bow  of  the  Gull  so  closely  that  one  of 
the  men  declared  he  could  easily  have  jumped  aboard 
of  her. 

Again,  at  nine  o'clock,  there  was  a  stir  on  board 
the  floating  light,  for  another  vessel  was  seen  driving 
towards  her.  This  one  was  a  brig.  The  foremast  was 
gone,  and  the  remains  of  a  tar-barrel  were  still 
burning  on  her  deck,  but  as  none  of  the  crew  could 
be  seen,  it  was  conjectured  that  some  other  ship 
must  have  run  foul  of  her,  and  they  had  escaped  on 
board  of  it.  All  hands  were  again  called,  the  tiller 
was  cast  loose,  a  wide  sheer  given  to  the  Gull,  and 
the  brig  went  past  them  at  about  the  distance  of  a 
ship-length.  She  went  slowly  by,  owing,  it  was 
afterwards  ascertained,  to  the  fact  that  she  had 
ninety  fathoms  of  cable  trailing  from  her  bows.  She 
was  laden  with  coal,  and  when  the  Deal  boatmen 
picked  her  up  next  day,  they  found  the  leg  of  a  man 
on  her  deck,  terribly  mutilated,  as  if  it  had  got 
jambed  somehow,  and  been  wrenched  off !  But  no 
one  ever  appeared  to  tell  the  fate  of  that  vessel's 
crew. 

Shortly  before  ten,  two  tar-barrels  were  observed 
burning  in  a  north-easterly  direction.  These  proved 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  257 

to  be  the  signals  of  distress  from  a  ship  and  a  barque, 
•which  were  dragging  their  anchors.  They  gradually 
drove  down  on  the  north  part  of  the  sands;  the 
barque  struck  on  a  part  named  the  Goodwin  Knoll, 
the  ship  went  on  the  North  sandhead. 

Now  the  time  for  action  had  come.  The  Good- 
win light- vessel,  being  nearest  to  the  wrecks,  fired 
a  signal- gun  and  sent  up  a  rocket. 

"  There  goes  the  Goodwin !"  cried  the  mate ;  "  load 
the  starboard  gun,  Jack." 

He  ran  down  himself  for  a  rocket  as  he  spoke, 
and  Jerry  ran  to  the  cabin  for  the  red-hot  poker, 
which  had  been  heating  for  some  time  past  in  readi- 
ness for  such  an  event. 

"  A  gun  and  a  flare  to  the  south-east'ard,  sir,  close 
to  us,"  shouted  Shales,  who  had  just  finished  load- 
ing, as  the  mate  returned  with  the  rocket  and  fixed 
it  in  position. 

"Where  away,  Jack?"  asked  the  mate  hastily, 
for  it  now  became  his  duty  to  send  the  rocket  in 
the  direction  of  the  new  signals,  so  as  to  point  out 
the  position  of  the  wreck  to  the  lifeboat-men  on 
shore. 

"Due  south-east,  sir;  there  they  go  again,"  said 
Jack,  "  not  so  close  as  I  thought.  South  sandhead 
vessel  signalling  now,  sir." 

There  was  no  further  need  for  questions.  The 
flash  of  the  gun  was  distinctly  seen,  though  the 

K 


258  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

sound  was  not  heard,  owing  to  the  howling  of  the 
hurricane,  and  the  bright  flare  of  a  second  tar-barrel 
told  its  own  tale,  while  a  gun  and  rocket  from  the 
floating  light  at  the  South  sandhead  showed  that 
the  vessel  in  distress  had  been  observed  by  her. 

"Fire  !"  cried  the  mate. 

Jerry  applied  the  poker  to  the  gun,  and  the  scene 
which  we  have  described  in  a  former  chapter  was 
re-enacted ; — the  blinding  flash,  the  roar,  and  the 
curved  line  of  light  across  the  black  sky ;  but  there 
was  no  occasion  that  night  to  repeat  the  signals. 
Everywhere  along  the  coast  the  salvors  of  life  and 
property  were  on  the  alert — many  of  them  already 
in  action,  out  battling  in  midnight  darkness  with 
the  raging  sea.  The  signal  was  at  once  replied  to 
from  Bamsgate. 

Truly  it  was  a  dreadful  night;  one  of  those 
tremendous  hurricanes  which  visit  our  shores  three 
or  four  times  it  may  be  in  a  century,  seeming  to  shake 
the  world  to  its  foundations,  and  to  proclaim  with 
unwonted  significance  the  dread  power  of  Him  who 
created  and  curbs  the  forces  of  nature. 

But  the  human  beings  who  were  involved  in  the 
perils  of  that  night  had  scant  leisure,  and  little  in- 
clination, perchance,  to  contemplate  its  sublimity. 
The  crew  of  the  Gull  light  were  surrounded  by 
signals  of  disaster  and  distress.  In  whichever 
direction  they  turned  their  eyes  burning  tar-barrels 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          259 

and  other  flaring  lights  were  seen,  telling  their  dismal 
tale  of  human  beings-in  urgent  need  of  assistance  or 
in  dire  extremity. 

Little  more  than  an  hour  before  midnight  another 
craft  was  observed  driving  down  on  the  hawse  of  the 
Gull.  There  was  greater  danger  now,  because  it 
happened  to  be  near  the  turn  of  the  tide,  or  "  slack 
water,"  so  that  the  rudder  could  not  be  used  to ' 
advantage.  All  hands  were  once  more  turned  out, 
and  as  the  vessel  drew  near  Mr.  Welton  hailed  her, 
but  got  no  reply. 

"Let  go  the  rudder-pendants  !"  cried  the  mate  as 
he  shipped  the  tiller. 

The  order  was  promptly  obeyed,  and  the  helm 
shoved  hard  a-port,  but  there  was  no  responsive 
sheer.  The  sea  was  at  the  time  currentless.  An- 
other moment  and  the  vessel,  which  was  a  large 
deserted  brig,  struck  the  floating  light  on  the  port- 
bow,  and  her  fore  shrouds  caught  the  fluke  of  the 
spare  anchor  which  projected  from  the  side. 

"An  axe,  Jerry ;  look  alive  !" 

Jerry  required  no  spur ;  he  bounded  forward, 
caught  up  an  axe,  and  leaped  with  it  into  the  chains 
of  the  vessel,  which  had  already  smashed  part  of 
the  Gull's  bulwarks  and  wrenched  the  iron  band  off 
the  cat-head. 

"  Cut  away  everything,"  cried  the  mate,  who  ob- 
served that  the  decks  of  the  brig  were  full  of 


260  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

water,  and  feared  that  she  might  be  in  a  sinking 
condition. 

The  other  men  of  the  Gull  were  busy  with  boat- 
hooks,  oars,  and  fenders,  straining  every  nerve  to 
get  clear  of  this  unwelcome  visitor,  while  Jerry 
dealt  the  shrouds  a  few  telling  blows  which  quickly 
cut  them  through,  but,  in  sweeping  past,  the  main- 
topsail  yard-arm  of  the  brig  went  crashing  into  the 
lantern.  Instantly  the  lamps  were  extinguished, 
and  the  bright  beams  of  the  floating  light  were 
gone !  The  brig  then  dropt  astern  and  was  soon 
lost  to  view. 

This  was  a  disaster  of  the  most  serious  nature — 
involving  as  it  did  the  absence  of  a  light,  on  the 
faithful  glow  of  which  the  fate  of  hundreds  of  vessels 
might  depend.  Fortunately,  however,  the  extreme 
fury  of  the  gale  had  begun  to  abate ;  it  was  there- 
fore probable  that  all  the  vessels  which  had  not 
already  been  wrecked  had  found  ports  of  shelter,  or 
would  now  be  able  to  hold  on  to  their  anchors  and 
weather  the  storm. 

But  floating- lights  are  not  left  without  resource 
in  a  catastrophe  such  as  this.  In  the  book  of  Regu- 
lations for  the  Service  it  is  ordered  that,  in  circum- 
stances of  this  kind,  two  red  lights  are  to  be  shown, 
one  at  the  end  of  the.  davit  forward,  the  other  on  a 
stanchion  beside  the  ensign  staff  aft,  and  likewise  ? 
red  flare  light  is  to  be  shown  every  quarter  of  an 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         261 

hour.  Accordingly,  while  some  of  the  men  lit  and 
fixed  up  the  red  lanterns,  Jerry  MacGowl  was  told 
off  to  the  duty  of  showing  the  red  flares,  or,  as  he 
himself  expressed  it,  "  settin'  oft  a  succession  o'  fire- 
works, which  wos  mightily  purty,  no  doubt,  an'  would 
have  bin  highly  entertainin'  if  it  had  been  foin 
weather,  and  a  time  of  rejoycin' !" 

Meanwhile  the  lantern  was  lowered,  and  it  was 
found  that  the  only  damage  done  had  been  the  shat- 
tering of  one  of  its  large  panes  of  glass.  The  lamps, 
although  blown  out,  had  not  been  injured.  The 
men  therefore  set  vigorously  to  work  to  put  in  a 
spare  pane,  and  get  the  light  once  more  into  working 
order. 

Leaving  them,  then,  at  this  important  piece  of 
work,  let  us  turn  aside  awhile  and  follow  the  for- 
tunes of  the  good  ship  Wellington  on  that  terrible 
night  of  storm  and  disaster. 

When  the  storm  was  brewing  she  was  not  far 
from  the  Downs,  but  the  baffling  winds  retarded  her 
progress,  and  it  was  pitch  dark  when  she  reached 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  Goodwin  sands.  Never- 
theless those  on  board  of  her  did  not  feel  much  un- 
easiness, because  a  good  pilot  had  been  secured  in 
the  channel 

The  Wellington  came  bowling  along  under  close- 
reefed  topsails.  Stanley  Hall  and  Jim  Welton  stood 
leaning  over  the  taffrail,  looking  down  into  the  black 


262  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

foam- streaked  water.  Both  were  silent,  save  that 
now  and  then  Jim  put  down  his  hand  to  pat  a  black 
muzzle  that  was  raised  lovingly  to  meet  it,  and 
whispered,  "  We  shall  be  home  to-morrow,  Neptune, 
— cheer  up,  old  boy  ! " 

But  Jim's  words  did  not  express  all  his  thoughts. 
If  he  had  revealed  them  fully  he  would  have  de- 
scribed a  bright  fireside  in  a  small  and  humble  but 
very  comfortable  room,  with  a  smiling  face  that  ren- 
dered sunshine  unnecessary,  and  a  pair  of  eyes  that 
made  gaslight  a  paltry  flame  as  well  as  an  absolute 
extravagance.  That  the  name  of  this  cheap,  yet 
dear,  luminary  began  with  an  2T  and  ended  with  an 
a,  is  a  piece  of  information  with  which  we  think  it 
unnecessary  to  trouble  the  reader. 

Stanley  Hall's  thoughts  were  somewhat  on  the 
same  line  of  rail,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expres- 
sion ;  the  chief  difference  being  that  his  luminary 
beamed  in  a  drawing-room,  and  sang  and  played  and 
painted  beautifully — which  accomplishments,  how- 
ever, Stanley  thought,  would  have  been  sorry  trifles 
in  themselves  had  they  not  been  coupled  with  a 
taste  for  housekeeping  and  domestic  economy,  and 
relieving  as  well  as  visiting  the  poor,  and  Sabbath- 
school  teaching ;  in  short,  every  sort  of  "  good  work," 
besides  an  unaccountable  as  well  as  admirable  pen- 
chant for  pitching  into  the  Board  of  Trade,  and  for 
keeping  sundry  account-books  in  such  a  neat  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          263 

methodical  way  that  there  remains  a  lasting  blot  on 
that  Board  in  the  fact  of  their  not  having  been  bound 
in  cloth  of  gold  ! 

Ever  since  his  first  visit  to  Yarmouth,  Stanley 
had  felt  an  increasing  admiration  for  Katie  Durant's 
sprightly  character  and  sterling  qualities,  and  also 
increasing  pity  for  poor  Bob  Queeker,  who,  he 
thought,  without  being  guilty  of  very  egregious 
vanity,  had  no  chance  whatever  of  winning  such  a 
prize.  The  reader  now  knows  that  the  pity  thus 
bestowed  upon  that  pitiful  fox-hunting  turncoat 
was  utterly  thrown  away. 

"  I  don't  like  these  fogs  in  such  dangerous  neigh- 
bourhood," observed  Jim  Welton,  as  a  fresh  squall 
burst  upon  the  ship  and  laid  it  over  so  much  that 
many  of  the  passengers  thought  she  was  going  to 
capsize.  "  We  should  be  getting  near  the  floating 
lights  of  the  Goodwin  sands  by  this  time." 

"Don't  these  lights  sometimes  break  adrift?" 
asked  Stanley,  "  and  thus  become  the  cause  of  ships 
going  headlong  to  destruction  ?" 
.  "  Not  often,"  replied  Jim.  "  Considering  the  con- 
stancy of  their  exposure  to  all  sorts  of  weather,  and 
the  number  of  light- vessels  afloat,  it  is  amazin'  how 
few  accidents  take  place.  There  has  been  nothing 
of  the  kind  as  long  as  I  can  remember  anything 
about  the  service,  but  my  father  has  told  me  of  a 
case  where  one  of  the  light- vessels  that  marked  a 


264  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

channel  at  the  mouth  of  the  Thames  once  broke 
adrift  in  a  heavy  gale.  She  managed  to  bring  up 
again  with  her  spare  anchor,  but  did  not  dare  to 
show  her  light,  being  out  of  her  proper  place,  and 
therefore,  a  false  guide.  The  consequence  was  that 
eight  vessels,  which  were  making  for  the  channel, 
and  counted  on  seeing  her,  went  on  the  sands  and 
were  lost  with  nearly  all  hands." 

"  If  that  be  so  it  were  better  to  have  lighthouses, 
I  think,  than  lightships,"  said  Stanley. 

"  No  doubt  it  would,  where  it  is  possible  to  build 
'em,"  replied  Jim,  "  but  in  some  places  it  is  supposed 
to  be  impossible  to  place  a  lighthouse,  so  we  must 
be  content  with  a  vessel  But  even  lighthouses  are 
are  not  perfectly  secure.  I  know  of  one,  built  on 
piles  on  a  sand-bank,  that  was  run  into  by  a  schooner 
and  carried  bodily  away.  Accidents  will  happen, 
you  know,  in  the  best  regulated  families  ;  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  we  don't  hear  of  a  floating-light 
breakin'  adrift  once  in  half  a  century — while,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  good  that  is  done  by  them  is 
beyond  all  calculation." 

The  young  men  relapsed  into  silence,  for  at  that 
moment  another  fierce  gust  of  wind  threw  the  ship 
over  almost  on  her  beam-ends.  Several  of  the  male 
passengers  came  rushing  on  deck  in  alarm,  but  the 
captain  quieted  them,  and  induced  them  to  return  to 
the  cabin  to  reassure  the  ladies,  who,  with  the  chil- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          265 

dren,  were  up  and  dressed,  being  too  anxious  to  think 
of  seeking  repose. 

It  takes  courts  of  inquiry, — formed  of  competent 
men,  who  examine  competent  witnesses  and  have 
the  counsel  of  competent  seamen, — many  days  of 
anxious  investigation  to  arrive  at  the  precise  know- 
ledge of  the  when,  how,  and  wherefore  of  a  wreck. 
We  do  not,  therefore,  pretend  to  be  able  to  say 
whether  it  was  the  fault  of  the  captain,  the  pilot, 
the  man  at  the  lead,  the  steersman,  the  look-out,  or 
the  weather,  that  the  good  ship  Wellington  met  her 
doom.  All  that  we  know  for  certain  is,  that  she 
sighted  the  southern  light-vessel  some  time  before 
midnight  during  the  great  gale,  that  she  steered 
what  was  supposed  to  be  her  true  course,  and  that, 
shortly  after,  she  struck  on  the  tail  of  the  sands. 

Instantly  the  foremast  went  by  the  board,  and  the 
furious  sea  swept  over  the  hull  in  blinding  cataracts, 
creating  terrible  dismay  and  confusion  amongst 
nearly  all  on  board. 

The  captain  and  first  mate,  however,  retained 
their  coolness  and  self-possession.  Stanley  and  Jim 
also,  with  several  of  the  officers  on  board,  were  cool 
and  self-possessed,  and  able  to  render  good  service. 
While  Stanley  loaded  a  small  carronade,  young 
Welton  got  up  blue  lights  and  an  empty  tar-barreL 
These  were  quickly  fired.  The  South  sandhead 
vessels  immediately  replied,  the  Gull,  as  we  have 


266  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

seen,  was  not  slow  to  answer,  and  thus  the  alarm 
was  transmitted  to  the  shore  while  the  breakers 
that  rushed  over  the  Goodwins  like  great  walls  of 
snow,  lifted  the  huge  vessel  like  a  cork  and  sent 
it  crashing  down,  again  and  again,  upon  the  fatal 
sands. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          267 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

GETTING  EEADY  FOR  ACTION. 

LET  us  turn  back  a  little  at  this  point,  and  see  how 
the  watchers  on  Eamsgate  pier  behaved  themselves 
on  that  night  of  storm  and  turmoil.  At  the  end  of 
the  east  pier  of  Eamsga'te  harbour  there  stands  a 
very  small  house,  a  sort  of  big  sentry-box  in  fact, 
of  solid  stone,  which  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  pier 
itself — built  not  only  on  it  but  into  it,  and  partially 
sheltered  from  the  full  fury  of  wind  and  sea  by  the 
low  parapet-wall  of  the  pier.  This  is  the  east  pier 
watch-house;  the  marine  residence,  if  we  may  so 
express  it,  of  the  coxswain  of  the  lifeboat  and  his 
men.  It  is  their  place  of  shelter  and  their  watch- 
tower  ;  their  nightly  resort,  where  they  smoke  the 
pipe  of  peace  and  good  fellowship,  and  spin  yarns, 
or  take  such  repose  as  the  nature  of  their  calling 
will  admit  of.  This  little  stone  house  had  need  be 
strong,  like  its  inmates,  for,  like  them,  it  is  frequently 
called  upon  to  brave  the  utmost  fury  of  the  elements 


268  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

— receiving  the  blast  fresh  and  unbroken  from  the 
North  Sea,  as  well  as  the  towering  billows  from  the 
same. 

This  nocturnal  watch-tower  for  muscular  men  and 
stout  hearts,  small  though  it  be,  is  divided  into  two 
parts,  the  outer  portion  being  the  sleeping-place  of 
the  lifeboat  men.  It  is  a  curious  little  box,  full  of 
oilskin  coats  and  sou'wester  caps  and  sea-boots,  and 
bears  the  general  aspect  of  a  house  which  had  been 
originally  intended  for  pigmies,  but  had  got  inhabited 
by  giants,  somehow,  by  mistake.  Its  very  diminu- 
tive stove  stands  near  to  its  extremely  small  door, 
which  is  in  close  proximity  to  its  unusually  little 
window.  A  little  library  with  a  scanty  supply  of 
books  hangs  near  the  stove-pipe,  as  if  the  owners 
thereof  thought  the  contents  had  become  somewhat 
stale,  and  required  warming  up  to  make  them  more 
palatable.  A  locker  runs  along  two  sides  of  the 
apartment,  on  the  coverings  of  which  stand  several 
lanterns,  an  oil-can,  and  a  stone  jar,  besides  sundry 
articles  with  an  extremely  seafaring  aspect,  among 
which  are  several  pairs  of  the  gigantic  boots  before 
referred  to — the  property  of  the  coxswain  and  his 
mates.  The  cork  lifebelt,  or  jacket  of  the  coxswain, 
hangs  near  the  door.  The  belts  for  use  by  the  other 
men  are  kept  in  an  outhouse  down  among  the 
recesses  of  the  pier  near  the  spot  to  which  the  life- 
boat is  usually  brought  to  embark  her  crew.  Only 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAKDS.  269 

five  of  the  lifeboat  men,  called  harbour  boatmen, 
keep  watch  in  and  arojind  the  little  stone  house  at 
nights.  The  rest  are  taken  from  among  the  hardy 
coast  boatmen  of  the  place,  and  the  rule  is — "  first 
come  first  served" — when  the  boat  is  called  out. 
There  is  never  any  lack  of  able  and  willing  hands 
to  man  the  Earasgate  lifeboat. 

Near  the  low  ceiling  of  the  watch-house  several 
hammocks  are  slung,  obliging  men  to  stoop  a  little 
as  they  move  about.  It  is  altogether  a  snug  and 
cozy  place,  but  cannot  boast  much  of  the  state  of  its 
atmosphere  when  the  fire  is  going,  the  door  shut, 
and  the  men  smoking ! 

On  the  night  of  the  storm  that  has  already  been 
described  in  our  last  chapter,  the  coxswain  entered 
the  watch-house,  clad  in  his  black  oilskin  garments, 
and  glittering  with  salt-water  from  top  to  toe. 

"  There  will  be  more  work  for  us  before  long, 
Pike,"  he  said,  flinging  off  his  coat  and  sou' -wester, 
and  taking  up  a  pipe,  which  he  began  to  fill ;  "  it 
looks  blacker  than  ever  in  the  nor'- east" 

Pike,  the  bowman  of  the  boat,  who  was  a  quiet 
man,  vigorous  in  action,  but  of  few  words,  admitted 
that  there  was  much  probability  of  their  services 
being  again  in  demand,  and  then,  rising,  put  on  his 
cap  and  coat,  and  went  out  to  take  a  look  at  the 
night. 

Two  other  men  sat  smoking  by  the  little  stove, 


270  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

and  talking  in  lazy  tones  over  the  events  of  the  day, 
which,  to  judge  from  their  words,  had  been  already 
stirring  enough. 

Late  the  night  before — one  of  them  said,  for  the 
information  of  the  other,  who  appeared  to  have  just 
arrived,  and  was  getting  the  news — the  steam-tug 
and  lifeboat  had  gone  out  on  observing  signals  from 
the  Gull,  and  had  been  told  there  was  a  wreck  on 
the  sands  ;  that  they  had  gone  round  the  back  of  the 
sands,  carefully  examining  them,  as  far  as  the  east 
buoy,  encountering  a  heavy  ground  swell,  with 
much  broken  sea,  but  saw  nothing ;  that  they  had 
then  gone  closer  in,  to  about  seven  fathoms  of  water, 
when  the  lifeboat  was  suddenly  towed  over  a  log — 
as  he  styled  it,  a  baulk — of  timber,  but  fortunately 
got  no  damage,  and  that  they  were  obliged  to  return 
to  harbour,  having  failed  to  discover  the  wreck, 
which  probably  had  gone  to  pieces  before  they  got 
out  to  the  sands  ;  so  they  had  all  their  trouble  for 
nothing.  The  man — appealing  by  look  to  the  cox- 
swain, who  smoked  in  silence,  and  gazed  sternly 
and  fixedly  at  the  fire,  as  if  his  mind  were  wandering 
far  away — went  on  to  say,  further,  that  early  that 
morning  they  had  been  again  called  out,  and  were 
fortunate  enough  to  save  the  crew  of  a  small 
schooner,  and  that  they  had  been  looking  out  for 
and  expecting  another  call  the  whole  day.  For  the 
truth  of  all  which  the  man  appealed  again  by  look 


OF  TIIE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  271 

to  the  coxswain,  who  merely  replied  with  a  slight 
nod,  wliile  he  continued_to  smoke  in  silence,  leaning 
Ms  elbows  on  his  knees,  with  his  strong  hands 
clasped  before  him,  sailor  fashion,  and  gazing  gravely 
at  the  fire.  It  seemed  as  if  he  were  resting  his  huge 
frame  after  the  recent  fatigues  to  which  it  had  been 
exposed,  and  in  anticipation  of  those  which  might 
be  yet  in  store. 

Just  then  the  little  door  opened  quickly,  and 
Pike's  dripping  head  appeared. 

"  I  think  the  Gull  is  signalling,"  he  said,  and 
vanished. 

The  coxswain's  sou'wester  and  coat  were  on  as  if 
by  magic,  and  he  stood  beside  his  mate  at  the  end 
of  the  pier,  partly  sheltered  by  the  parapet  wall. 

They  both  clung  to  the  wall,  and  gazed  intently 
out  to  sea,  where  there  was  just  light  enough  to 
show  the  black  waves  heaving  wildly  up  against  the 
dark  sky,  and  the  foam  gleaming  in  lurid  patches 
everywhere.  The  seas  breaking  in  heavy  masses  on 
the  pier-head  drenched  the  two  men  as  they  bent 
their  heads  to  resist  the  roaring  blast.  If  it  had 
been  high  water,  they  could  not  have  stood  there  for 
a  moment.  They  had  not  been  there  long  before 
their  constant  friend,  the  master  of  the  steam-tug, 
joined  them.  Straining  their  eyes  intently  in  the 
direction  of  the  floating-light,  which  appeared  like  a 
little  star  tossed  on  the  far-off  horizon,  they  observed 


272  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

a  slight  flash,  and  then  a  thin  curved  line  of  red  fire 
was  seen  to  leap  into  the  chaos  of  dark  clouds. 

"  There  she  goes !"  cried  the  coxswain. 

"  An'  no  mistake,"  said  Pike,  as  they  all  ran  to 
get  ready  for  action. 

Few  and  to  the  point  were  the  words  spoken. 
Each  man  knew  exactly  what  was  to  be  done.  There 
was  no  occasion  to  rouse  the  lifeboat  men  on  such  a 
night.  The  harbour-master  had  seen  the  signal,  and, 
clad  in  oilskins  like  the  men,  was  out  among  them 
superintending.  The  steam-tug,  which  lies  at  that 
pier  with  her  fires  lighted  and  banked  up,  and  her 
water  hot,  all  the  year  round,  sounded  her  shrill 
whistle  and  cast  loose.  Her  master  and  mate  were 
old  hands  at  the  perilgus  work,  and  lost  no  time, 
for  wreck,  like  fire,  is  fatally  rapid.  There  was  no 
confusion,  but  there  was  great  haste.  The  lifeboat 
was  quickly  manned.  Those  who  were  most  active 
got  on  the  cork  lifebelts  and  leaped  in ;  those  who 
were  less  active,  or  at  a  greater  distance  when  the 
signal  sounded,  had  to  remain  behind.  Eleven  stal- 
wart men,  with  frames  inured  to  fatigue  and  cold, 
clad  in  oiled  suits,  and  with  lifebelts  on,  sat  on  the 
thwarts  of  the  lifeboat,  and  the  coxswain  stood  on 
a  raised  platform  in  her  stern,  with  the  tiller- ropes 
in  his  hands.  The  masts  were  up,  and  the  sails 
ready  to  hoist.  Pike  made  fast  the  huge  hawser 
that  was  passed  to  them  over  the  stern  of  the  steam- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          273 

tug,  and  away  they  went,  rushing  out  right  in  the 
teeth  of  the  gale. 

No  cheer  was  given, — they  had  no  breath  to  spare 
for  sentimental  service  just  then.  There  was  no 
one,  save  the  harbour-master  and  his.  assistant  with 
a  few  men  on  duty,  to  see  them  start,  for  few  could 
have  ventured  to  brave  the  fury  of  the  elements  that 
night  Jon  the  spray-lashed  pier.  In  darkness  thsy 
left ;  into  darkness  most  appalling  they  plunged, 
with  nothing  save  a  stern  sense  of  duty  and  the 
strong  hope  of  saving  human  life  to  cheer  them  on 
their  way. 


274  THE  FLOAi^NG  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


THE  BATTLE. 


AT  first  the  men  of  the  lifeboat  had  nothing  to  do 
but  hold  on  to  the  thwarts,  with  the  exception,  of 
course,  of  the  coxswain,  whose  energies  were  taxed 
from  the  commencement  in  the  matter  of  steering 
the  boat,  which  was  dragged  through  the  waves  at 
such  a  rate  by  the  powerful  tug  that  merely  to  hold 
on  was  a  work  of  some  difficulty.  Their  course 
might  much  more  truly  be  said  to  have  been  under 
than  over  the  waves,  so  constantly  did  these  break 
into  and  fill  the  boat.  But  no  sooner  was  she  full 
than  the  discharging  tubes  freed  her,  and  she  rose 
again  and  again,  buoyant  as  a  cork. 

Those  who  have  not  seen  this  desperate  work  can 
form  but  a  faint  conception  of  its  true  character. 
Written  or  spoken  words  may  conjure  up  a  pretty 
vivid  picture  of  the  scene,  the  blackness  of  the 
night,  and  the  heaving  and  lashing  of  the  waves, 
but  words  cannot  adequately  describe  the  shriek  of 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  275 

the  blast,  the  hiss  and  roar  of  breakers,  and  they 
cannot  convey  the  feeling  of  the  weight  of  tons  of 
falling  water,  which  cause  the  stoutest  crafts  of 
human  build  to  reel  and  quiver  to  their  centres. 

The  steam-tug  had  not  to  contend  with  the  ordi- 
nary straightforward  rush  of  a  North  Sea  storm. 
She  was  surrounded  and  beset  by  great  boiling 
whirlpools  and  spouting  cross-seas.  They  struck  her 
on  the  bow,  on  the  side,  on  the  quarter,  on  the  stern. 
They  opened  as  if  to  engulf  her.  They  rushed  at 
as  if  to  overwhelm  her.  They  met  under  her, 
thrusting  her  up,  and  they  leaped  into  her,  crush- 
ing her  down.  But  she  was  a  sturdy  vessel;  a 
steady  hand  was  at  the  wheel,  and  her  weather- 
beaten  master  stood  calm  and  collected  on  the 
bridge. 

It  is  probable  that  few  persons  who  read  the 
accounts  of  lifeboat  service  on  the  Goodwin  sands 
are  aware  of  the  importance  of  the  duties  performed 
and  the  desperate  risks  run  by  the  steam-tug. 
Without  her  powerful  engines  to  tow  it  to  windward 
of  the  wrecks  the  lifeboat  would  be  much,  very 
much,  less  useful  than  it  is.  In  performing  this 
service  the  tug  has  again  and  again  to  run  into 
shallow  water,  and  steer,  in  the  blackest  nights,  amid 
narrow  intricate  channels,  where  a  slight  error  of 
judgment  on  the  part  of  her  master — a  few  fathoms 
more  to  the  right  or  left — would  send  her  on  the 


276  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

sands,  and  cause  herself  to  become  a  wreck  and  an 
object  of  solicitude  to  the  lifeboat  crew.  "  Honour 
to  whom  honour  is  due  "  is  a  principle  easy  to  state, 
but  not  always  easy  to  carry  into  practice.  Every 
time  the  steam-tug  goes  out  she  runs  her  full  share 
of  the  imminent  risk ; — sometimes,  and  in  some  re- 
spects, as  great  as  that  of  the  lifeboat  herself,  for, 
whereas,  a  touch  upon  the  sand,  to  which  it  is  her 
duty  to  approach  as  near  as  possible,  would  be  the 
death-warrant  of  the  tug,  it  is,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  glorious  prerogative  of  the  lifeboat  to  be  almost 
incapable  of  destruction,  and  her  peculiar  privilege 
frequently  to  go  "  slap  on  and  right  over  "  the  sands 
with  slight  damage,  though  with  great  danger.  That 
the  death-warrant  just  referred  to  has  not  been 
signed,  over  and  over  again,  is  owing  almost  entirely 
to  the  courage  and  skill  of  her  master  and  mate,  who 
possess  a  thorough  and  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
intricate  channels,  soundings,  and  tides  of  those 
dangerous  shoals,  and  have  spent  many  years  in 
risking  their  lives  among  them.  Full  credit  is 
usually  given  to  the  lifeboat,  though  not  too  much 
by  any  means,  but  there  is  not,  we  think,  a  sufficient 
appreciation  of  the  services  of  the  steam-tug.  She 
may  be  seen  in  the  harbour  any  day,  modestly  doing 
the  dirty  work  of  hauling  out  the  dredge-boats, 
while  the  gay  lifeboat  floats  idly  on  the  water  to  be 
pointed  out  and  admired  by  summer  visitors — thus 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          277 

unfairly,  though  unavoidably,  are  public  favours 
often  distributed  ! 

Observe,  reader,  we  are  far  from  holding  up  these 
two  as  rivals.  They  are  a  loving  brother  and  sister. 
Comparatively  little  could  be  done  in  the  grand 
work  of  saving  human  life  without  the  mighty 
strength  of  the  "big  brother;"  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  nothing  at  all  could  be  done  without  the 
buoyant  activity  and  courage  of  the  "  little  mister." 
Observe,  also,  that  although  the  lifeboat  floats  in 
idleness,  like  a  saucy  little  duck,  in  time  of  peace, 
her  men,  like  their  mates  in  the  "  big  brother,"  are 
hard  at  work  like  other  honest  folk  about  the  har- 
bour. It  is  only  when  the  sands  "show  their  teeth," 
and  the  floating  lights  send  up  their  signals,  and  the 
storm-blast  calls  to  action,  that  the  tug  and  boat 
unite,  and  the  men,  flinging  down  the  implements 
of  labour,  rise  to  the  dignity  of  heroic  work  with  all 
the  pith  and  power  and  promptitude  of  heroes. 

As  they  ploughed  through  the  foam  together,  the 
tug  was  frequently  obliged  to  ease- steam  and  give 
herself  time  to  recover  from  the  shock  of  those  heavy 
cross  seas.  Suddenly  a  bright  flaring  light  was 
observed  in  the  vicinity  of  a  shoal  called  the  Break, 
which  lies  between  the  Goodwins  and  the  shore.  It 
went  out  in  a  few  seconds,  but  not  before  the  master 
of  the  tug  had  taken  its  bearings  and  altered  his 
course.  At  the  same  time  signal-guns  and  rockets 


278  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

were  observed,  both  from  the  North  sandheacl  light- 
vessel  and  the  pull,  and  several  flaring  lights  were 
also  seen  burning  on  or  near  the  Goodwin  sands. 

On  nearing  the  Middle  Break.,  which  was  easily 
distinguishable  from  the  surrounding  turmoil  by  the 
intensity  of  its  roar  as  the  seas  rolled  over  it,  the 
coxswain  of  the  lifeboat  ordered  the  sail  to  be 
hoisted  and  the  tow-rope  slipped.  Pike,  who  was  a 
thoroughly  intelligent  and  sympathetic  bowman,  had 
all  in  readiness ;  he  obeyed  the  order  instantly,  and 
the  boat,  as  if  endued  with  sudden  life,  sprang  away 
on  its  own  account  into  the  broken  water. 

Broken  water !  who  but  a  lifeboat-man  can  con- 
ceive what  that  means? — except,  indeed,  those  few 
who  have  been  saved  from  wreck.  A  chaos  of  white 
water,  rendered  ghostly  and  grey  by  darkness.  No 
green  or  liquid  water  visible  anywhere ;  all  froth  and 
fury,  with  force  tremendous  everywhere.  Bushing 
rivers  met  by  opposing  cataracts ;  bursting  against 
each  other ;  leaping  high  in  air  from  the  shock ; 
falling  back  and  whirling  away  in  wild  eddies, — seek- 
ing rest,  but  finding  none  !  Vain  indeed  must  be  our 
attempt  to  describe  the  awful  aspect,  the  mad  music, 
the  fearful  violence  of  "  broken  water  "  on  the  Break  ! 

In  such  a  sea  the  boat  was  tossed  as  if  she  were 
a  chip  ;  but  the  gale  gave  her  speed,  and  speed  gave 
her  quick  steering  power.  She  leaped  over  the 
foam,  or  dashed  through  it,  or  staggered  under  it, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  279 

but  always  rose  again,  the  men,  meanwhile,  holding 
on  for  life.  Pike  was  yeady  in  the  bow,  with  an  arm 
tightly  embracing  the  bollard,  or  strong  post,  round 
which  the  cable  runs.  The  coxswain's  figure,  tower- 
ing high  in  the  stern,  with  the  steering  tackles  in 
his  hands,  leaned  forward  against  a  strong  strap  or 
band  fixed  across  the  boat  to  keep  him  in  position. 

They  made  straight  for  the  spot  where  the  flare 
light  had  been  seen.  At  first  darkness  and  thick 
spray  combined  pre'vented  them  from  seeing  any- 
thing, but  in  a  few  minutes  -a  dark  object  was  seen 
looming  faintly  against  the  sky,  and  the  coxswain 
observed  with  anxious  concern  that  it  lay  not  to  lee- 
ward, but  to  windward  of  him. 

"  Out  oars  !  down  with  the  sail ! "  he  shouted. 

His  voice  was  very  powerful,  but  it  was  swept 
away,  and  was  only  heard  by  those  nearest  to  him. 
The  order  was  instantly  obeyed,  however ;  but  the 
gale  was  so  heavy  and  the  boat  so  large  that  head- 
way could  not  be  made.  They  could  see  that  the 
wreck  was  a  small  vessel  on  her  beam- ends.  Being 
to  leeward,  they  could  hear  despairing  cries  dis- 
tinctly, and  four  or  five  human  beings  were  seen 
clinging  to  the  side.  The  lifeboat  men  strained  till 
their  sinews  weiliiigh  cracked ;  it  seemed  doubtful 
whether  they  had  advanced  or  not,  when  suddenly 
an  unusually  large  wave  fell  in  thunder  on  the 
Break ;  it  rushed  over  the  shallows  with  a  foaming 


280  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

head,  caught  the  boat  on  its  crest  and  carried  it  far 
away  to  leeward. 

Sail  was  again  made.  A  box  near  the  coxswain's 
feet  was  opened,  and  a  blue-light  taken  out.  There 
was  no  difficulty  in  firing  this.  A  sharp  stroke  on 
its  butt  lighted  the  percussion  powder  within,  and  in 
a  moment  the  scene  was  illumined  by  a  ghastly  glare, 
which  brought  out  the  blue  and  white  boat  distinctly, 
and  gave  corpse-like  colour  to  the  faces  of  the  men. 
At  the  same  time  it  summoned  the  attendant 
steamer. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  tug  ran  down  to  her ;  the 
tow-rope  was  taken  on  board,  and  away  went  the 
brother  and  sister  once  more  to  windward  of  the 
wreck ;  but  now  no  wreck  was  to  be  seen  !  They 
searched  round  the  shoal  in  all  directions  without 
success,  and  finally  were  compelled  to  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  same  sea  which  had  carried  the 
boat  to  leeward  had  swept  the  wreck  away. 

With  sad  hearts  they  now  turned  towards  the 
Goodwins,  but  the  melancholy  incident  they  had 
just  witnessed  was  soon  banished  from  their  minds 
by  the  urgent  signals  for  aid  still  seen  flaring  in  all 
directions.  For  the  nearest  of  these  they  made  at 
full  speed.  On  their  way,  a  dark  object  was  seen  to 
sweep  past  them  across  their  stern  as  if  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind.  It  was  the  Broadstairs  lifeboat,  which 
had  already  done  good  service  that  night,  and  was 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         281 

bent  on  doing  more.  Similarly  occupied  were  the 
lifeboats  of  Deal,  Walmer,  and  other  places  along  the 
coast.  A  Deal  lugger  was  also  seen.  The  hardy 
beachmen  of  Kent  fear  no  storm.  They  run  out  in 
all  weathers  to  succour  ships  in  distress,  and  much 
good  service  do  they  accomplish,  but  their  powers 
are  limited.  Like  the  steam-tugs,  they  can  hover 
around  the  sands  in  heavy  gales,  and  venture  gingerly 
near  to  them ;  but  thus  far,  and  no  farther,  may  they 
go.  They  cannot,  like  the  noble  lifeboats,  dash 
right  into  the  caldron  of  surf,  and  dare  the  sands 
and  seas  to  do  their  worst ! 

The  lifeboat  men  felt  cheered,  no  doubt,  to  know 
that  so  many  able  hands  were  fighting  around  them 
in  the  same  battle,  but  they  had  little  time  to  think 
on  such  things ;  the  work  in  hand  claimed  their  ex- 
clusive attention — as  it  must  now  claim  ours. 

One  vessel  was  seen  burning  three  very  large  flare 
lights.  Towards  this  the  steamer  hastened,  and 
when  as  near  as  prudence  would  permit  her  to 
approach  the  Goodwin  sands — something  less  than 
quarter  of  a  mile — the  hawser  was  again  slipped,  sail 
was  made  on  the  lifeboat,  and  she  once  more  entered, 
the  broken  water  alone. 

Here,  of  course,  being  more  exposed,  it  was  still 
more  tremendous  than  on  the  Break.  It  was  a  little 
after  midnight  when  they  reached  the  sands,  and 
made  the  discovery  that  they  were  on  the  wrong 


282  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

side  of  them.  The  tide  was  making,  however,  and  in 
a  short  time  there  was  sufficient  water  to  enable  the 
boat  to  run  right  over ;  she  struck  many  times,  but, 
being  tough,  received  no  serious  damage.  Soon  they 
drew  near  the  wreck,  and  could  see  that  she  had 
sunk  completely,  and  that  the  crew  were  clinging  to 
the  jibboom. 

When  about  fifty  yards  to  windward,  the  anchor 
was  let  go,  the  lifeboat  veered  down  towards  the 
wreck,  and  with  much  difficulty  they  succeeded  in 
taking  off  the  whole  crew  of  seven  men.  Signalizing 
the  tug  with  another  blue-light,  they  ran  to  leeward 
into  deep  water,  and  were  again  taken  in  tow ;  the 
saved  men  being  with  some  difficulty  put  on  board 
the  tug.  They  were  Dutchmen ;  and  the  poor 
master  of  the  lost  vessel  could  find  no  words  suffi- 
ciently forcible  to  express  his  gratitude  to  the  cox- 
swain of  the  lifeboat.  When  he  afterwards  met 
him  on  shore,  he  wrung  his  hand  warmly,  and,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  promised  never  to  forget  him. 
"  Me'  never  tinks  of  you,"  said  he  (meaning  the 
reverse),  "  so  long 's  I  live ;  me  tell  the  King  of 
Holland!" 

It  is  but  just  to  add  that  the  poor  fello\v  faithfully 
redeemed  his  ill-expressed  promise,  and  that  the 
coxswain  of  the  lifeboat  now  possesses  a  medal 
presented  to  him  by  the  King  of  Holland  iu  acknow- 
ledgment of  his  services  on  that  occasion. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  283 

But  the  great  work  df  that  night  still  remained  to 
be  done.  Not  far  from  the  light-vessel  a  flare-light 
was  seen  burning  brightly.  It  seemed  to  be  well 
tended,  and  was  often  renewed.  Towards  this  the 
tug  now  steered  with  the  little  sister  in  tow.  They 
soon  came  near  enough  to  observe  that  she  was  a 
large  ship,  going  to  pieces  on  the  saijfls. 

Slipping  the  cable  once  more,  the  lifeboat  gallantly 
dashed  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and  soon  got 
within  hail  of  the  wreck. 

Then  it  was  that,  for  the  first  time,  a  ray  of  hope 
entered  the  hearts  of  the  passengers  of  the  luckless 
Wellington,  and  then  it  was  that  Jim  Welton  and 
Stanley  Hall,  with  several  young  officers,  who  had 
kept  the  tar-barrels  burning  so  briskly  for  so  many 
hours,  despite  the  drenching  seas,  sent  up  a  loud 
thrilling  cheer,  and  announced  to  the  terror-stricken 
women  and  children  that  the  lifeboat  was  in  sight  I 

What  a  cry  for  those  who  had  been  for  three 
hours  dashing  on  the  sands,  expecting  every  moment 
that  the  ship  would  break  up  !  The  horrors  ofc  their 
situation  were  enhanced  by  the  novelty  of  their 
sensations !  All  of  us  can  realize  to  some  extent, 
from  hearsay  and  from  paintings,  what  is  meant  by 
billows  bursting  high  over  ships'  mast-heads  and 
washing  everything  off  the  decks,  but  who  that  has 
not  experienced  it  can  imagine  what  it  is  to  see 
gigantic  yards  being  whipped  to  and  fro  as  a  light 


284  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

cane  might  be  switched  by  a  strong  man,  to  see  top- 
masts snapping  like  pipe-stems,  to  hear  stout  ropes 
cracking  like  pliant  whipcord,  and  great  sails  flap- 
ping with  thunder- claps  or  bursting  into  shreds  ? 
Above  all,  who  can  realize  the  sensation  caused  by 
one's  abode  being  lifted  violently  with  every  surge 
and  dropped  again  with  the  crashing  weight  of  two 
thousand  tons,  or  being  rolled  from  side  to  side  so 
that  the  floor  on  which  one  stands  alternates  between 
the  horizontal  and  perpendicular,  while  one's  frame 
each  time  receives  a  shock  that  is  only  too  much  in 
dread  harmony  with  the  desperate  condition  of  the 
mind  ? 

"  The  lifeboat  in  sight !"  Who  at  such  a  time 
would  not  pray  God's  best  blessing  on  the  lifeboat, 
on  the  stalwart  men  who  man  it,  and  on  the  noble 
Society  which  supports  it  ? 

Certain  it  is  that  many  a  prayer  of  this  kind  was 
ejaculated  on  board  the  Wellington  that  night,  while 
the  passengers  re-echoed  the  good  news,  and  hur- 
riedly went  on  deck.  But  what  an  awful  scene  of 
dreary  desolation  presented  itself  when  they  got 
there !  The  flares  gave  forth  just  enough  light  to 
make  darkness  visible — ropes,  masts,  yards,  sails, 
everything  in  indescribable  confusion,  and  the  sea 
breaking  over  all  with  a  violence  that  rendered  it 
extremely  difficult  to  maintain  a  footing  even  in  the 
most  sheltered  position. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          285 

Fortunately  by  this  time  the  vessel  had  been 
beaten  sufficiently  high  on  the  shoal  to  prevent  the 
terrible  rolling  to  which  she  had  been  at  first  sub- 
jected; and  as  the  officers  and  seamen  vied  with 
each  other  in  attentions  to  the  women  and  children, 
these  latter  were  soon  placed  in  comparative  security, 
and  awaited  with  breathless  anxiety  the  arrival  of 
the  boat. 

In  order  to  keep  the  flare-lights  burning  all  kinds 
of  materials  had  been  sacrificed.  Deluged  as  they 
were  continually  by  heavy  seas,  nothing  but  the 
most  inflammable  substances  would  burn.  Hence, 
when  their  tar- barrels  were  exhausted,  Stanley  Hall 
and  his  assistants  got  hold  of  sheets,  table-cloths, 
bedding,  and  garments,  and  saturated  these  with 
paraffine  oil,  of  which,  fortunately,  there  happened 
to  be  a  large  quantity  on  board.  They  now  applied 
themselves  with  redoubled  diligence  to  the  construc- 
tion and  keeping  alight  of  these  flares,  knowing  well 
that  the  work  which  remained  to  be  done  before  all 
should  be  rescued,  was  of  a  nature  requiring  time 
as  well  as  care  and  courage. 

On  rushed  the  lifeboat  through  the  broken  water. 
"When  almost  within  hail,  the  coxswain  heard  the 
roar  of  an  unusually  heavy  sea  rushing  behind 
him. 

"  Let  go  the  fore-sheet,"  he  shouted,  "  and  hold  on 
for  your  lives." 


286  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

The  wave — a  billow  broken  to  atoms,  yet  still 
retaining  all  its  weight  and  motive  force — over- 
whelmed the  boat  and  passed  on.  Before  she  had 
quite  recovered,  another  sea  of  equal  size  engulfed 
her,  and  as  she  had  been  turned  broadside  on  by  the 
first,  the  second  caught  her  in  its  embrace  and  carried 
her  like  the  wind  bodily  to  leeward.  Her  immense 
breadth  of  beam  prevented  an  upset,  and  she  was 
finally  launched  into  shallower  water,  where  the 
sand  had  only  a  few  feet  of  sea  above  it.  She  had 
been  swept  away  full  quarter  of  a  mile  in  little  more 
than  a  minute  !  Here  the  surf  was  like  a  boiling 
caldron,  but  there  was  not  depth  enough  to  admit 
of  heavy  seas. 

The  same  sea  that  swrept  away  the  boat  carried 
the  fore  and  main  masts  of  the  Wellington  by  the 
board,  and  extinguished  all  her  lights. 

The  boat  drove  quite  two  miles  to  leeward  before 
the  tug  got  hold  of  her  again.  To  have  returned  to 
the  wreck  against  wind  and  tide  alone,  we  need 
scarcely  repeat,  would  have  been  impossible,  but 
with  the  aid  of  the  tug  she  was  soon  towed  to  her 
old  position  and  again  cast  loose. 

Once  more  she  rushed  into  the  fight  and  succeeded 
in  dropping  anchor  a  considerable  distance  to  wind- 
ward of  the  wreck,  from  which  point  she  veered 
down  under  her  lee,  but  so  great  was  the  mass  of 
broken  masts,  spars,  and  wreckage — nothing  being 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          287 

now  left  but  parts  of  the  mizzen  and  bowsprit — that 
the  coxswain  was  obliged  to  pay  out  117  fathoms  of 
cable  to  keep  clear  of  it  all. 

The  difficulty  and  danger  of  getting  the  boat 
alongside  now  became  apparent  to  the  people  on  the 
wreck,  many  of  whom  had  never  dreamed  of  such 
impediments  before,  and  their  hopes  sank  unreason- 
ably low,  just  as,  before,  they  had  been  raised  unduly 
high. 

With  great  difficulty  the  boat  got  near  to  the 
port  quarter  of  the  ship,  and  Pike  stood  up  ready  in 
the  bow  with  a  line,  to  which  was  attached  a  loaded 
cane,  something  like  a  large  life-preserver. 

"  Heave  !"  shouted  the  coxswain. 

The  bowman  made  a  deliberate  and  splendid 
cast ;  the  weighted  cane  fell  on  the  deck  of  the  ship, 
and  was  caught  by  Jim  Welton,  who  attached  a 
hawser  to  it.  This  was  drawn  into  the  boat,  and  in 
a  few  seconds  she  was  alongside.  But  she  was  now 
in  great  danger !  The  wild  waters  that  heaved, 
surged,  and  leaped  under  the  vessel's  lee  threatened 
to  dash  the  boat  in  pieces  against  her  every  moment, 
and  it  was  only  by  the  unremitting  and  strenuous 
exertions  of  the  men  with  boat-hooks,  oars,  and 
fenders  that  this  was  prevented.  Now  the  boat 
surged  up  into  the  chains  as  if  about  to  leap  on 
board  the  ship ;  anon  it  sank  into  a  gulf  of  spray,  or 
sheered  wildly  to  leeward,  but  by  means  of  the 


288  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

hawser  and  cable,  and  a  "spring"  attached  to  the 
latter,  she  was  so  handled  that  one  and  another  of 
the  crew  of  the  wreck  were  taken  into  her. 

The  first  saved  was  a  little  child.  It  was  too 
small  and  delicate  to  be  swung  over  the  side  by  a 
rope,  so  the  captain  asked  Jim  Welton,  as  being  the 
most  agile  man  in  the  ship  and  possessed  of  super- 
abundant animal  courage,  to  take  it  in  his  arms  and 
leap  on  board.  Jim  agreed  at  once,  handed  over 
the  care  of  his  flare-lights  to  one  of  the  men,  and 
prepared  for  action.  The  poor  child,  which  was 
about  a  year  old,  clung  to  its  mother's  neck  with 
terror,  and  the  distracted  woman — a  soldier's  widow 
— could  scarce  be  prevailed  on  to  let  the  little  one 
out  of  her  arms. 

"  Oh,  let  me  go  with  him,"  she  pleaded  most 
earnestly,  "  he  is  all  that  is  left  to  me." 

"You  shall  follow  immediately;  delay  may  be 
death,"  said  the  captain,  kindly,  as  he  drew  the  child 
gently  but  firmly  from  her  grasp. 

It  was  securely  bound  to  Jim's  broad  bosom  by 
means  of  a  shawL  Watching  his  opportunity  when 
the  boat  came  surging  up  on  the  crest  of  a  billow 
almost  to  his  feet,  and  was  about  to  drop  far  down 
into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  the  young  sailor  sprang 
from  the  side  and  was  caught  in  the  outstretched 
arms  of  the  lifeboat  men. 

It  had  occurred  to  Stanley  Hall,  just  before  this 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          289 

happened,  that  there  was  every  probability  of  some 
of  the  passengers  falling  overboard  during  the  pro- 
cess of  being  transferre~d  to  the  boat.  Stanley  was 
of  a  somewhat  eccentric  turn  of  mind,  and  seldom  al- 
lowed his  thoughts  to  dissipate  without  taking  action 
of  some  kind.  He  therefore  got  into  the  mizzen  chains 
and  quietly  fastened  a  rope  round  his  waist,  the 
other  end  of  which  he  tied  to  a  stanchion, 

"  You  '11  get  crushed  by  the  boat  there,"  cried  the 
captain,  who  observed  him. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  was  the  reply. 

He  stood  there  and  watched  Jim  "Welton  as  he 
leaped.  The  mother  of  the  child,  unable  to  restrain 
herself,  climbed  on  the  bulwarks  of  the  vessel. 
Just  as  she  did  so  the  boat  surged  up  again, — so 
close  that  it  required  but  a  short  step  to  get  into  her. 
Some  of  the  passengers  availed  themselves  of  the 
chance — the  poor  widow  among  them.  She  sprang 
with  a  cry  of  joy,  for  she  saw  her  child's  face  at  the 
moment  as  they  unbound  him  from  Jim's  breast, 
but  she  sprang  short.  Little  wonder  that  a  woman 
should  neglect  to  make  due  allowance  for  the  quick 
swooping  of  the  boat !  Next  moment  she  was  in 
the  boiling  foam.  A  moment  later  and  she  was  in 
Stanley  Hall's  grasp,  and  both  were  swept  violently 
to  leeward,  but  the  rope  brought  them  up.  Despite 
darkness  and  turmoil  the  quick-eyed  coxswain  and 

his  mate   had   noted   the    incident.      Pike  payed 

• 
T 


290  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

out  the  hawser,  the  coxswain  eased  off  the  spring ; 
away  went  the  boat,  and  next  moment  Pike  had 
Stanley  by  the  hair.  Short  was  the  time  required 
for  their  strong  arms  to  pull  him  and  his  burden 
in-board ;  and,  oh  !  it  was  a  touching  sight  to  wit- 
ness the  expressions  of  the  anxious  faces  that  were 
turned  eagerly  towards  the  boat,  and  glared  pale 
and  ghastly  in  the  flaring  light,  as  her  sturdy  crew 
hauled  slowly  up,  hand  over  hand,  and  got  once 
more  under  the  vessel's  lee. 

No  sooner  were  they  within  reach  than  another 
impatient  passenger  leaped  overboard.  This  was 
Jim's  faithful  dog  Neptune  !  Watching  his  time 
with  the  intelligence  of  a  human  being,  he  sprang, 
•with  much  greater  precision  and  vigour  than  any 
human  being  could  have  done,  and,  alighting  on 
Pike's  shoulders,  almost  drove  that  stout  boatman 
into  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

Soon  the  boat  was  as  full  as  it  could  hold.  All 
the  women  and  children  had  been  got  into  her,  and 
many  of  the  male  passengers,  so  that  there  was  no 
room  to  move ;  still  there  remained  from  twenty 
to  thirty  people  to  be  rescued.  Seeing  this,  Jim 
seized  Neptune  by  the  neck  and  flung  him  back  into 
the  wreck.  Catching  a  rope  that  hung  over  the 
side,  he  also  swung  himself  on  board,  saying, — 

"You  and  I  must  sink  or  swim  together,  Nep  ! 
Shove  off,  lads,  and  come  back  as  soon  as  you  can." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          291 

The  hawser  was  slipped  as  he  spoke  ;  the  lifeboat 
was  hauled  slowly  but  steadily  to  windward  up  to 
her  anchor.  Tons  of  "water  poured  over  her  every 
moment,  but  ran  through  her  discharging  tubes, 
and,  deeply  loaded  though  she  was,  she  rose  buoyant 
from  each  immersion  like  an  invincible  sea-monster. 

When  the  anchor  was  reached,  a  small  portion  of 
the  foresail  was  set,  and  then,  cutting  the  cable  with 
one  blow  of  a  hatchet,  away  they  went  like  the 
scudding  foam  right  over  the  boiling  shallows  on 
the  spit  of  sand. 

"  Hand  out  a  blue-light  there,"  cried  the  coxswain. 

A  sharp  blow  caused  the  blue-fire  to  flare  up  and 
shed  a  light  that  fell  strong  as  that  of  the  full  moon 
on  the  mingled  grave,  pale,  stern,  and  terrified  faces 
in  the  lifeboat. 

"  Safe  !"  muttered  one  of  the  crew. 

"  Safe  ?"  was  echoed  in  surprise,  no  doubt,  from 
several  fluttering  hearts. 

As  well  might  that  have  been  said  to  the  hapless 
canoe-man  rushing  over  the  Falls  of  Niagara  as  to  the 
inexperienced  ones  there,  while  they  gazed,  horror- 
struck,  on  the  tumult  of  mad  waters  in  that  sudden 
blaze  of  unearthly  light.  Their  faith  in  a  trust- 
worthy and  intelligent  boatman  was  not  equal  to 
their  faith  in  their  own  eyes,  backed  by  ignorance  ! 
But  who  will  blame  them  for  lack  of  faith  in  the 
circumstances  ?  Nevertheless,  they  were  sale.  The 


292  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

watchful  master  of  the  tug, — laying-to  off  the  deadly 
banks,  now  noting  the  compass,  now  casting  the  lead, 
anon  peering  into  the  wild  storm, — saw  the  light, 
ran  down  to  it,  took  the  rescued  ones  on  board,  and, 
having  received  from  the  coxswain  the  information 
that  there  were  "  more  coming,"  sent  them  down  into 
his  little  cabin,  there  to  be  refreshed  and  comforted, 
while  the  lifeboat  sheered  off  again,  and  once  more 
sprang  into  the  "broken  water."  So  might  some 
mighty  warrior  spur  from  the  battle-field  charged 
with  despatches  of  the  highest  import  bearing  on 
the  fight,  and,  having  delivered  his  message,  turn  on 
his  heel  and  rush  back  into  the  whirling  tide  of  war 
to  complete  the  victory  which  had  been  so  well 
begun ! 

Once  more  they  made  for  the  wreck,  which  was 
by  that  time  fast  breaking  up.  Running  right 
before  the  wind  in  such  an  awful  gale,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  make  the  men  crowd  aft  in  order  to  keep  the 
boat's  head  well  out  of  the  water.  On  this  occasion 
one  or  two  of  the  seamen  of  the  Wellington,  who 
had  been  allowed  inadvertently  to  remain  in  the 
boat,  became'  alarmed,  for  the  seas  were  rolling  high 
over  the  gunwale  on  each  side,  and  rushing  into  her 
with  such  force  as  to  make  it  a  difficult  matter  to 
avoid  being  washed  out.  It  was  a  new  sensation  to 
these  men  to  rush  thus  madly  between  two  walls  of 
foam  eight  or  ten  feet  high !  They  glanced  back- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          293 

ward,  where  another  wall  of  foaming  water  seemed 
to  be  curling  over  the  stern,  as  if  about  to  drop 
inboard.  The  coxswain  observed  their  looks,  and 
knew  their  feelings.  He  knew  there  was  no  lack  of 
courage  in  them,  and  that  a  little  experience  would 
change  their  minds  on  this  point. 

"  Never  look  behind,  lads,"  he  cried ;  "  look  ahead ; 
always  look  right  ahead." 

"  Ay,  Geordy,"  remarked  one  of  the  men,— a 
Scotchman, — to  his  mate,  "  it 's  rum  sailin'  this  is. 
I  thocht  we  was  a'  gaun  to  the  bottom;  but  nae 
doot  the  cox'n  kens  best.  It 's  a  wonderfu'  boat !" 

Having  so  said,  the  sedate  Scot  dismissed  his 
anxieties,  and  thereafter  appeared  to  regard  the  sur- 
rounding chaos  of  water  with  no  other  feelings  than 
philosophic  interest  and  curiosity. 

On  nearing  the  wreck  the  second  time,  it  was 
found  that  the  tide  had  fallen  so  low  that  they  could 
scarcely  get  alongside.  Three  times  they  struck  on 
the  shoal ;  on  the  third  occasion  the  mizzen-mast 
and  sail  were  blown  out  of  the  boat.  They  managed 
to  drop  anchor,  however,  and  to  veer  down  under 
the  port  bow  of  the  Wellington,  whence  the  anxious 
survivors  threw  ropes  to  them,  and,  one  after  another, 
leaped  or  swung  themselves  into  the  boat.  But 
they  were  so  long  about  it  that  before  all  had  been- 
got  out  the  coxswain  was  obliged  to  drop  to  leeward 
to  prevent  being  left  aground.  In  spite  of  this,  tlie 


294  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

boat  got  fast,  and  now  they  could  neither  advance  to 
the  wreck  for  the  nine  men  who  still  remained  in 
her,  nor  push  off  to  rejoin  the  tug. 

The  space  between  the  boat  and  vessel  was  crossed 
by  such  a  continuous  rush  of  broken  water  that  for 
a  time  it  was  impossible  to  attempt  anything,  but  as 
the  tide  fell  the  coxswain  consulted  with  his  bow- 
man, and  both  agreed  to  venture  to  wade  to  the 
wreck,  those  on  board  having  become  so  exhausted 
as  to  be  unable  or  unwilling  to  make  further  effort 
to  save  themselves. 

Acting  on  this  resolve  they  with  one  of  their  men 
sprang  into  the  raging  surf  and  staggered  to  the 
wreck,  where  they  induced  two  of  the  crew  to  leap 
overboard  and  brought  them  safely  to  the  boat. 
Others  of  the  lifeboat  crew  then  joined  them  and 
four  more  were  rescued.* 

The  tide  had  been  at  its  lowest  when  this  desperate 
work  was  begun, — before  it  was  finished  it  had 
turned.  This,  coupled  with  the  fact  that  they  had 
all  been  nearly  swept  away  during  the  last  effort, 
and  that  there  was  a  fresh  burst  of  violence  in  the 
gale,  induced  them  to  wait  until  the  tide  should  rise. 
When  it  did  so  sufficiently,  they  hauled  and  shoved 
the  boat  alongside,  and  the  captain,  who  was  one  of 
the  three  remaining  men,  made  a  desperate  spring, 

*  The  coxswain— Mr.  Isaac  Jarman— who  has  rendered  heroic  ser- 
vice in  the  Ramsgate  Lifeboat  during  the  last  ten  years,  has  been 
personally  instrumental  in  saving  between  four  and  five  hundred  lives. 


THE  LIFEBOAT  RESCUE.— PAGE  294. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  295 

but  missed  the  boat  and  was  whirled  away.  Pike 
made  a  grasp  at  him  bjit  missed.  The  coxswain 
seized  a  life-buoy  and  hurled  it  towards  him.  It 
fell  within  his  reach,  and  it  was  supposed  that  he 
had  caught  it,  but  they  could  not  be  certain.  The 
boat  was  now  afloat  and  bumping  violently.  If  they 
had  cut  the  cable  in  order  to  rescue  the  captain, 
which  they  could  by  no  means  make  sure  of  doing, 
the  improbability  of  being  able  to  return  in  time  to 
save  the  two  remaining  men  would  have  been  very 
great.  It  seemed  to  be  life  or  death  in  either  case, 
so  they  stuck  by  the  wreck. 

It  was  grey  dawn  now,  and  the  wreckage  was 
knocking  against  and  around  them  to  such  an  extent 
that  the  coxswain  began  to  fear  for  the  safety  of  his 
boat.  Yet  he  was  loath  to  leave  the  men  to  perish. 

"Jump  now,  lads!"  he  cried,  sheering  up  along- 
side, "  it 's  your  last  chance.  It 's  death  to  all  of  us 
if  we  stop  longer  here  !" 

The  men  sprang  together.  One  gained  the  side  of 
the  boat  and  was  saved,  the  other  was  swept  away. 
He  made  frantic  efforts  to  gain  the  boat,  but  before 
his  companion  had  been  got  inboard  he  was  out  of 
sight,  and  although  the  cable  was  promptly  cut  and 
the  sail  set  he  could  not  be  found.  The  boat  was 
then  run  down  along  the  sands  in  search  of  the 
captain.  The  coxswain  knew  well  from  experience 
that  he  must  certainly  have  been  swept  by  the 


296  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

current  in  the  same  direction  as  the  wreckage.  He 
therefore  followed  this,  and  in  a  short  time  had  the 
inexpressible  satisfaction  and  good  fortune  to  find 
the  captain.  He  had  caught  the  life-buoy,  and 
having  managed  to  get  it  under  his  arms  had  floated 
about  for  the  greater  part  of  an  hour.  Though 
nearly  dead  he  was  still  sensible,  and,  after  being 
well  chafed  and  refreshed  with  a  little  rum  from  the 
coxswain's  case-bottle — provided  for  occasions  of 
this  sort — he  recovered. 

The  great  work  of  the  lifeboat  had  now  been 
accomplished,  but  they  could  not  feel  that  it  had 
been  thoroughly  completed  without  one  more  effort 
being  made  to  save  the  lost  man.  They  therefore 
ran  still  farther  down  the  sand  in  the  direction  where 
he  had  been  last  seen.  They  followed  the  drift  of 
wreckage  as  before.  Presently  the  bowman  uttered 
a  thrilling  shout,  for,  through  the  turmoil  of  dashing 
spray,  he  saw  the  man  clinging  to  a  spar ! 

So  unexpected  was  this  happy  event  that  the 
whole  crew  involuntarily  gave  vent  to  a  ringing 
cheer,  although,  in  the  circumstances,  and  consider- 
ing the  nature  of  their  exhausting  work  and  the 
time  they  had  been  exposed  to  it,  one  might  have 
supposed  them  incapable  of  such  a  burst  of  enthu- 
siasm. 

In  a  few  moments  he  was  rescued,  and  now,  with 
light  hearts,  they  ran  for  the  tug,  which  was  clearly 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          297 

visible  in  the  rapidly  increasing  daylight.  They 
did  not  put  off  time  in  transferring  the  saved  men 
to  the  steamer.  The  big  hawser, — their  familiar 
bond  of  attachment,-— was  made  fast  to  them,  and 
away  went  that  noble  big  brother  and  splendid  little 
sister  straight  for  Ramsgate  harbour.* 

But  the  work  of  that  wild  night  was  not  yet 
finished.  On  their  way  home  they  fell  in  with  a 
schooner,  the  foretopmast  and  bowsprit  of  which 
were  gone.  As  she  was  drifting  towards  the  sands 
they  hailed  her.  No  reply  being  made,  the  lifeboat 
was  towed  alongside,  and,  on  being  boarded,  it  was 
found  that  she  was  a  derelict.  Probably  she  had 
got  upon  the  sands  during  the  night,  been  forsaken 
by  her  crew  in  their  own  boat — in  which  event  there 
was  small  chance  of  any  being  saved — and  had 
drifted  off  again  at  the  change  of  the  tide. 

Be  that  as  it  might,  six  lifeboat  men  were  put  on 
board.  Finding  no  water  in  her,  they  slipt  her  two 
cables,  which  were  hanging  from  the  bow,  a  rope 
was  made  fast  to  the  steamer,  and  she  was  taken 
in  tow. 


*  If  the  reader  should  desire  to  know  something  more  of  the  history 
of  the  celebrated  Rauisgate  lifeboat,  which,  owing  to  its  position, 
opportunities,  and  advantages,  has  had  the  most  stirring  career  of  all 
the  lifeboat  fleet,  we  advise  the  perusal  of  a  work  (at  present  in  the 
press,  if  it  be  not  already  published)  named  Storm  Warriors,  or  the 
Ramsgate  Lifeboat  and  the  Goodwin  Sands,  by  the  Rev.  John  Gil- 
more,  whose  able  and  thrilling  articles  on  the  lifeboat-service  in  Mac- 
millan's  Magazine  are  well  known. 


298  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

It  was  drawing  towards  noon  when  they  neared 
the  harbour.  Very  different  indeed  was  the  aspect 
of  things  there  then  from  what  it  had  been  when 
they  went  out  on  their  errand  of  mercy  thirteen 
hours  before.  Although  the  gale  was  still  blowing 
fresh  it  had  moderated  greatly.  The  black  clouds 
no  longer  held  possession  of  the  sky,  but  were 
pierced,  scattered,  and  gilded,  as  they  were  rolled 
away,  by  the  victorious  sun.  The  sea  still  raged  and 
showed  its  white  "  teeth  "  fiercely,  as  if  its  spirit  had 
been  too  much  roused  to  be  easily  appeased;  but 
blue  sky  appeared  in  patches  everywhere ;  the  rain 
had  ceased,  and  the  people  of  the  town  and  visitors 
swarmed  out  to  enjoy  the  returning  sunshine,  inhale 
the  fresh  sea-breeze,  and  await,  anxiously,  the  return 
of  the  lifeboat — for,  of  course,  every  one  in  the  town 
was  aware  by  that  time  that  she  had  been  out  all 
night. 

When,  at  length,  the  smoke  of  the  "  big  brother" 
was  observed  drawing  near,  the  people  flocked  in 
hundreds  to  the  piers  and  cliffs.  Wherever  a  point 
of  vantage  was  to  be  had,  dozens  of  spectators 
crowned  it.  Wherever  a  point  of  danger  was  to  be 
gained,  daring  spirits — chiefly  in  the  shape  of  small 
boys — took  it  by  storm,  in  absolute  contempt  of  the 
police.  "  Jacob's  Ladder" — the  cliff  staircase — was 
crowded  from  top  to  bottom.  The  west  pier  was 
rendered  invisible  to  its  outer  extremity  by  human 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         299 

f 

"beings.  The  east  pier,  as  far  as  it  was  dry,  was 
covered  by  the  fashion  and  beauty — as  well  as  by 
the  fishy  and  tarry — of  the  town.  Beyond  the  poiiit 
of  dryness  it  was  more  or  less  besieged  by  those 
who  were  reckless,  riotous,  and  ridiculously  fond  of 
salt-water  spray.  The  yards  and  shrouds-  of  the 
crowded  and  much  damaged  shipping  in  the  har- 
bour were  manned,  and  the  windows  of  the  town 
that  commanded  the  sea  were  filled  with  human 
faces.  An  absolute  battery  of  telescopes,  like  small 
artillery,  was  levelled  at  the  approaching  tug. 
Everywhere  were  to  be  seen  and  heard  evidences  of 
excitement,  anxiety,  and  expectation. 

It  was  not  long  before  it  was  announced  that  flags 
were  seen  flying  at  the  mast-heads  of  the  tug  and 
lifeboat — a  sure  evidence  that  a  rescue  had  been 
successfully  accomplished.  This  caused  many  a 
burst  of  cheering  from  the  crowds,  as  the  fact  and 
its  import  became  gradually  known.  But  these 
were  as  nothing  compared  with  the  cheers  that  arose 
when  the  steamer,  with  the  lifeboat  and  the  schooner 
in  tow,  drew  near,  and  it  could  be  seen  that  there 
were  many  people  on  board — among  them  women 
and  children.  When  they  finally  surged  past  the 
pier- head  on  the  crest  of  a  tremendous  billow,  and 
swept  into  the  harbour  under  a  vast  shower  of 
spray  that  burst  over  the  pier  and  rose  above  the 
mast-heads  of  the  shipping  within — as  if  to  pour 


300  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

a  libation  on  the  gallant  crews — then  a  succession 
of  cheers,  that  cannot  be  described,  welcomed  the 
victors  and  re-echoed  from  the  chalk-cliffs,  to  be 
caught  up  and  sent  out  again  and  again  in  thrilling 
cadence  on  thb  mad  sea,  which  had  thus  been  plun- 
dered of'its  booty  and  disappointed  of  its  prey ! 

Scarfs  and  hats  and  kerchiefs  and  hands  were 
waved  in  wild  enthusiasm,  strangely  mingled  with 
tender  pity,  when  the  exhausted  women  and  chil- 
dren and  the  worn-out  and  battered  lifeboat-meri 
were  landed.  Many  cheered,  no  doubt,  to  think  of 
the  strong  hearts  and  invincible  courage  that  dwelt  in 
the  breasts  of  Britain's  sons  ;  while  others, — tracing 
things  at  once  to  their  true  source, — cheered  in 
broken  tones,  or  were  incompetent  to  cheer  at  all, 
when  they  thought  with  thankfulness  of  Britain's 
faith  in  the  Word  of  God,  which,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, had  given  that  courage  its  inspiration,  and 
filled  those  hearts  with  fire. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         301 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SHOWS  THAT  THERE  ABE  NO  EFFECTS  WITHOUT  ADEQUATE  CAUSES. 

THERE  were  not  a  few  surprising  and  unexpected 
meetings  that  day  on  Eamsgate  pier.  Foremost 
among  the  hundreds  who  pressed  forward  to  shake 
the  lifeboat-men  by  the  hand,  and  to  sympathize 
with  and  congratulate  the  wrecked  and  rescued 
people,  was  Mr.  George  Durant.  It  mattered  nothing 
to  that  stout  enthusiast  that  his  hat  had  been  swept 
away  into  hopeless  destruction  during  his  frantic 
efforts  to  get  to  the  front,  leaving  his  polished  head 
exposed  to  the  still  considerable  fury  of  the  blast 
and  the  intermittent  violence  of  the  sun ;  and  it 
mattered,  if  possible,  still  less  that  the  wreck  turned 
out  to  be  one  of  his  own  vessels  ;  but  it  was  a  matter 
of  the  greatest  interest  and  amazement  to  him  to 
find  that  the  first  man  he  should  meet  in  the  crowd 
and  seize  in  a  hearty  embrace,  was  his  young  friend, 
Stanley  HalL 

"  What,  Stanney !"  he  exclaimed  in  unmitigated 
surprise ;  "  is  it — can  it  be  ?  Prodigious  sight  1" 


302  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

The  old  gentleman  could  say  no  more,  but  con- 
tinued for  a  few  seconds  to  wring  the  hands  of  his 
young  friend,  gaze  in  his  face,  and  vent  himself  in 
gusts  of  surprise  and  bursts  of  tearful  laughter,  to 
the  great  interest  and  amusement  of  the  bystanders. 

Mr.  Durant's  inconsistent  conduct  may  be  partly 
accounted  for  and  excused  by  the  fact  that  Stanley 
had  stepped  on  the  pier  with  no  other  garments  on 
than  a  pair  of  trousers  and  a  shirt,  the  former  having 
a  large  rent  on  the  right  knee,  and  the  latter  being 
torn  open  at  the  breast,  in  consequence  of  the  violent 
removal  of  all  the  buttons  when  its  owner  was  dragged 
into  the  lifeboat.  As,  in  addition  to  this,  the  young 
man's  dishevelled  hair  did  duty  for  a  cap,  and  his 
face  and  hands  were  smeared  with  oil  and  tar  from 
the  flare-lights  which  he  had  assisted  to  keep  up  so 
energetically,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  first  sight 
of  him  had  a  powerful  effect  on  Mr.  Durant. 

"  Why,  Stanney,"  he  said  at  length,  "  you  look  as 
if  you  were  some  strange  sea-monster  just  broke 
loose  from  Neptune's  menagerie  !" 

Perhaps  this  idea  had  been  suggested  by  the  rope 
round  Stanley's  waist,  the  cut  end  of  which  still 
dangled  at  his  side,  for  Mr.  Durant  took  hold  of  it 
inquiringly. 

"  Ay,  sir,"  put  in  the  coxswain,  who  chanced  to  be 
near  him,  "  that  bit  of  rope  is  a  scarf  of  honour. 
He  saved  the  life  of  a  soldier's  widow  with  it." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  303 

There  was  a  tendency  to  cheer  on  the  part  of  the 
bystanders  who  heard  this. 

"  God  bless  you,  Stanney,  my  boy  !  Come  and  get 
dressed,"  said  the  old"  gentleman,  suddenly  seizing 
his  friend's  arm  and  pushing  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  "  come  along ;  oh,  don't  talk  to  me  of  the 
ship.  I  know  that  it 's  lost ;  no  matter — you  are 
saved.  And  do  you  come  along  with  us  "VVel — Wei 
— what 's  the  name  of —  ?  Ah  !  Welton — come ; 
my  daughter  is  here  somewhere.  I  left  her  near 
the  parapet.  Never  mind,  she  knows  her  way 
home." 

Katie  certainly  was  there,  and  when,  over  the 
heads  of  the  people — for  she  had  mounted  with 
characteristic  energy  on  the  parapet,  assisted  by 
Queeker  and  accompanied  by  Fanny  Hennings — she 
beheld  Stanley  Hall  in  such  a  plight,  she  felt  a  dis- 
position to  laugh  and  cry  and  faint  all  at  once.  She 
resisted  the  tendency,  however,  although  the  expres- 
sion of  her  face  and  her  rapid  change  of  colour  in- 
duced Queeker  with  anxious  haste  to  throw  out  his 
arms  to  catch  her. 

"  Ha  !"  exclaimed  Queeker,  "  I  knew  it !" 

"What  Queeker  knew  he  never  explained.  It  may 
have  had  reference  to  certain  suspicions  entertained 
in  regard  to  the  impression  made  by  the  young 
student  on  Katie  the  night  of  their  first  meeting ; 
we  cannot  tell,  but  we  know  that  he  followed  up  the 


304  -THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

exclamation  with  the  muttered  remark,  "  It  was  for- 
tunate that  I  pulled  up  in  time." 

Herein  Queeker  exhibited  the  innate  tendency 
of  the  human  heart  to  deceive  itself.  That  furious 
little  poetical  fox-hunter  had,  by  his  own  confession, 
felt  the  pangs  of  a  guilty  conscience  in  turning,  just 
because  he  could  not  help  it,  from  Katie  to  Fanny, 
yet  here  he  was  now  basely  and  coolly  taking  credit 
to  himself  for  having  "  pulled  up  in  time  !" 

"  Oh,  look  at  the  dear  little  children  !"  exclaimed 
Fanny,  pointing  towards  a  part  of  the  crowd  where 
several  seamen  were  carrying  the  rescued  and  still 
terrified  little  ones  in  their  strong  arms,  while  others 
assisted  the  women  along,  and  wrapped  dry  shawls 
round  them. 

"  How  dreadful  to  think,"  said  Katie,  making  a 
hard  struggle  to  suppress  her  agitation,  "that  all 
these  would  have  been  lost  but  for  the  lifeboat ;  and 
how  wonderful  to  think  that  some  of  our  own  friends 
should  be  among  them  !  " 

"  Ay,  there  be  many  more  besides  these  saved  last 
night,  miss,"  remarked  a  sturdy  old  boatman  who 
chanced  to  be  standing  beside  her.  "  All  along  the 
east  coast  the  lifeboats  has  bin  out,  miss,  you  may 
be  sure;  and  they  don't  often  shove  off  without 
bringin'  somethin'  back  to  show  for  their  pains, 
though  they  don't  all  'ave  steamers  for  to  tug  'em 
out.  There's  the  Broadstairs  boat,  now;  I've  jist 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          305 

heerd  she  was  out  all  night  an'  saved  fifteen  lives ; 
an'  the  Walmer  and  Deal  boats  has  fetched  in  a  lot, 
I  believe,  though  we  han't  got  particklers  yet." 

Besides  those  whom  we  have  mentioned  as  gazing 
with  the  crowd  at  the  arrival  of  the  lifeboat,  Morley 
Jones,  and  Nora,  and  Billy  Towler  were  there. 
Jones  and  Billy  had  returned  from  London  together 
the  night  before  the  storm,  and,  like  nearly  every 
one  else  in  the  town,  had  turned  out  to  witness  the 
arrival  of  the  lifeboat. 

Dick  Moy  also  was  there,  and  that  huge  lump  of 
good-nature  spent  the  time  in  making  sagacious  re- 
marks and  wise  comments  on  wind  and  weather, 
wrecks  and  rescues,  in  a  manner  that  commanded 
the  intense  admiration  of  a  knot  of  visitors  who 
happened  to  be  near  him,  and  who  regarded  him  as 
a  choice  specimen — a  sort  of  type — of  the  British 
son  of  Neptune. 

"This  is  wot  /  says,"  observed  Dick,  while  the 
people  were  landing,  "  so  long  as  there 's  'ope,  'old  on. 
Never  say  die,  and  never  give  in ;  them 's  my  senti- 
ments. 'Cause  why  ?  no  one  never  knows  wot  may 
turn  up.  If  your  ship  goes  down ;  w'y,  wot  then  \ 
Strike  out,  to  be  sure.  Fr'aps  you  may  be  picked 
up  afore  long.  If  sharks  is  near,  p'r'aps  you  may 
be  picked  down.  You  can  nev< .  r  tx •':!.  If  you  gets 
on  a  shoal,  wot  then  ?  w'y,  stick  to  the  ship  till  a 
lifeboat  conies  off  to  'ee.  Don't  never  go  for  to  take 


306  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

to  your  own  boats.  If  you  do — capsize,  an'  Davy 
Jones's  locker  is  the  word.  If  the  lifeboat  can't  git 
alongside ;  w'y,  wait  till  it  can.  If  it  can't ;  w'y,  it 
can  only  be  said  that  it  couldn't.  No  use  cryin' 
over  spilt  milk,  you  know.  Not  that  I  cares  for 
milk.  It  don't  keep  at  sea,  d'  ye  see ;  an 's  only  fit 
for  babbys.  If  the  lifeboat  capsizes;  w'y,  then, 
owin'  to  her  parfection  o'  build,  she  rights  again,  an' 
you,  'avin'  on  cork  jackets,  p'r'aps,  gits  into  'er  by 
the  lifelines,  all  handy.  If  you  'aven't  got  no  cork 
jackets  on,  w'y,  them  that  has  '11  pick  'ee  up.  If  not, 
it's  like  enough  you'll  go  down.  But  no  matter, 
you  've  did  yer  best,  an'  man,  woman,  or  child  can 
do  no  more.  You  can  only  die  once,  d'  ye  see  ?" 

Whether  the  admiring  audience  did  or  did  not  see 
the  full  force  of  these  remarks,  they  undoubtedly  saw 
enough  in  the  gigantic  tar  to  esteem  him  a  marvel 
of  philosophic  wisdom.  Judging  by  their  looks  that 
he  was  highly  appreciated,  it  is  just  possible  that 
Dick  Moy  might  have  been  tempted  to  extend  his 
discourse,  had  not  a  move  in  the  crowd  showed  a 
general  tendency  towards  dispersion,  the  rescued 
people  having  been  removed,  some  to  the  Sailor's 
Home,  others  to  the  residences  of  hospitable  people 
in  the  town. 

Now,  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  all  these  cha- 
racters in  our  tale  have  been  thus  brought  together, 
merely  at  our  pleasure,  without  rhyme  or  reason, 


OF  THE  GOODWIX  SANDS.          307 

and  in  utter  disregard  of  the  law  of  probabilities. 
By  no  means. 

Mr.  Robert  Queeker  had  started  for  Ramsgate,  as 
the  reader  knows,  on  "a  secret  mission,  which,  as  is 
also  well  known,  was  somewhat  violently  interrupted 
by  the  sporting  tendencies  of  that  poetical  law- 
clerk  ;  but  no  sooner  did  Queeker  recover  from  his 
wounds  than — with  the  irresistible  ardour  of  a  Wel- 
lington, or  a  Blucher,  or  a  bull-dog,  or  a  boarding- 
school  belle — he  returned  to  the  charge,  made  out? 
his  intended  visit,  set  his  traps,  baited  his  lines, 
fastened  his  snares,  and  whatever  else  appertained  to 
his  secret  mission,  so  entirely  to  the  satisfaction  of 
Messrs.  Merryheart  and  Dashope,  that  these  estim- 
able men  resolved,  some  time  afterwards,  to  send 
him  back  again  to  the  scene  of  his  labours,  to  push 
still  further  the  dark  workings  of  his  mission.  Elate 
with  success  the  earnest  Queeker  prepared  to  go. 
Oh,  what  joy  if  she  would  only  go  with  him ! 

"  And  why  not  ? "  cried  Queeker,  starting  up  when 
this  thought  struck  him,  as  if  it  had  struck  him  too 
hard  and  he  were  about  to  retaliate, — "  Why  not  ? 
That  is  the  question." 

He  emphasized  that  as  if  all  other  questions, 
Hamlet's  included,  sank  into  insignificance  by  con- 
trast. 

"  Only  last  night,"  continued  Queeker  to  himself, 
still  standing  bolt  upright  in  a  frenzy  of  inspiration, 


308  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

and  running  his  fingers  fiercely  through  his  hair,  so 
as  to  make  it  stand  bolt  upright  too — "  only  last 
night  I  heard  old  Durant  say  he  could  not  make  up 
his  mind  where  to  go  to  spend  the  autumn  this  year. 
Why  not  Eamsgate  ?  why  not  Eamsgate  ? 

"  Its  chalky  cliffs,  and  yellow  sand, 

And  rides,  and  walks,  and  weather, 
Its  windows,  which  a  view  command 
Of  everything  together. 

"  Its  pleasant  walks,  and  pretty  shops, 

To  fascinate  the  belles, 
Its  foaming  waves,  like  washing-slops, 
To  captivate  the  swells. 

"  Its  boats  and  boatmen,  brave  and  true, 

Who  lounge  upon  the  jetty, 
And  smile  upon  the  girls  too — 
At  least  when  they  are  pretty. 

"  Oh !  Ramsgate,  where  in  all  the  earth, 

Beside  the  lovely  sea, 
Can  any  town  of  note  or  worth 
Be  found  to  equal  thee  ? 

Nowhere  !"  said  Queeker,  bringing  his  fist  down  on 
the  table  with  a  force  that  made  the  ink  leap,  when 
he  had  finished  these  verses — verses,  however,  which 
cost  him  two  hours  and  a  profuse  perspiration  to 
produce. 

It  was  exactly  a  quarter  to  eight  P.M.  by  the 
Yarmouth  custom-house  clock,  due  allowance  being 
made  for  variation,  when  this  "  Nowhere !"  was 
uttered,  and  it  was  precisely  a  quarter  past  nine  P.M. 
that  day  week  when  the  Durants  drove  up  to  the 
door  of  the  Fortress  Hotel  in  Ramsgate,  and  ordered 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         309 

beds  and  tea, — so  powerful  was  the  influence  of  a 
great  mind  when  brought  to  bear  on  Fanny  Hennings, 
who  exercised  irresistible  influence  over  the  good- 
natured  Katie,  whose  power  over  her  indulgent 
father  was  absolute  ! 

Not  less  natural  was  the  presence,  in  Eamsgate, 
of  Billy  Towler.  We  have  already  mentioned  that, 
for  peculiarly  crooked  ends  of  his  own,  Morley  Jones 
had  changed  his  abode  to  Eamsgate — his  country 
abode,  that  is.  His  headquarters  and  town  depart- 
ment continued  as  before  to  flourish  in  Gravesend, 
in  the  form  of  a  public-house,  which  had  once 
caught  fire  at  a  time,  strange  to  say,  when  the  spirit 
and  beer  casks  were  all  nearly  empty,  a  curious  fact 
which  the  proprietor  alone  was  aware  of,  but  thought 
it  advisable  not  to  mention  when  he  went  to  receive 
the  £200  of  insurance  which  had  been  effected  on 
the  premises  a  few  weeks  before  !  It  will  thus  be 
seen  that  Mr.  Jones's  assurance,  in  the  matter  of 
dealing  with  insurance,  was  considerable. 

Having  taken  up  his  temporary  abode,  then,  in 
Eamsgate,  and  placed  his  mother  and  daughter 
therein  as  permanent  residents,  Mr.  Jones  com- 
menced such  a  close  investigation  as  to  the  sudden 
disappearance  of  his  ally  Billy,  that  he  wormed  out 
of  the  unwilling  but  helpless  Nora  not  only  what 
had  become  of  him,  but  the  name  and  place  of  his 
habitation.  Having  accomplished  this,  he  dressed 


310  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

himself  in  a  blue  nautical  suit  with  brass  buttons, 
took  the  morning  train  to  London,  and  in  due  course 
presented  himself  at  the  door  of  the  Grotto,  where 
he  requested  permission  to  see  the  boy  Towler. 

The  request  being  granted,  he  was  shown  into  a 
room,  and  Billy  was  soon  after  let  in  upon  him, 

"  Hallo  !  young  Walleye,  why,  what  ever  has  come 
over  you?"  he  exclaimed  in  great  surprise,  on  observ- 
ing that  Billy's  face  was  clean,  in  which  condition 
he  had  never  before  seen  it,  and  his  hair  brushed,  an 
extraordinary  novelty ;  and,  most  astonishing  of  all, 
that  he  wore  unragged  garments. 

Billy,  who,  although  outwardly  much  altered,  had 
apparently  lost  none  of  his  hearty  ways  and  sharp 
intelligence,  stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
thrust  both  hands  deep  into  his  trousers  pockets, 
opened  his  eyes  very  wide,  and  gave  vent  to  a  low 
prolonged  whistle. 

"  What  game  may  you  be  up  to  ?"  he  said,  at  the 
end  of  the  musical  prelude. 

"You  are  greatly  improved,  Billy,"  said  Jones, 
holding  out  his  hand. 

"  I  'm  not  aweer,"  replied  the  boy,  drawing  back 
"  as  I  've  got  to  thank  you  for  it." 

"  Come,  Billy,  this  ain't  friendly,  is  it,  after  all 
I've  done  for  you?"  said  Jones,  remonstratively;  "I 
only  want  you  to  come  out  an'  'ave  a  talk  with  me 
about  things,  an'  I  '11  give  'ee  a  swig  o'  beer  or  what- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          311 

ever  you  take  a  fancy  to.     You  ain't  goin'  to  show 
the  white  feather  and  become  a  milksop,  are  you?" 

"Now,  look  here,  Mister  Jones,"  said  the  boy, 
with  an  air  of  decision  that  there  was  no  mistaking, 
as  he  retreated  nearer  to  the  door ;  "  I  don't  want  • 
for  to  have  nothin'  more  to  do  with  you.  I  've  see'd 
much  more  than  enough  of  'ee.  You  knows  me 
pretty  well,  an'  you  knows  that  wotiver  else  I  may 
be,  I  ain't  a  hippercrite.  I  knows  enough  o'  your 
doin's  to  make  you  look  pretty  blue  if  I  like,  but  for 
reasons  of  my  own,  wot  you  've  got  nothink  to  do 
with,  I  don't  mean  to  peach.  All  I  ax  is,  that  you 
goes  your  way  an'  let  me  alone.  That 's  where  it  is. 
The  people  here  seem  to  'ave  got  a  notion  that  I  've 
got  a  soul  as  well  as  a  body,  and  that  it  ain't  'xactly 
sitch  a  worthless  thing  as  to  be  never  thought  of,  and 
throVd  away  like  an  old  shoe.  They  may  be  wrong, 
and  they  may  be  right,  but  I  'm  inclined  to  agree 
with  'em.  Let  me  tell  'ee  that  you  'ave  did  more 
than  anybody  else  to  show  me  the  evil  of  wicked 
ways,  so  you  needn't  stand  there  grinnin'  like  a 
rackishoot  wi'  the  toothache.  I  've  jined  the  Band 
of  Hope,  too,  so  I  don't  want  none  o'  your  beer  nor 
nothin'  else,  an'  if  you  offers  to  lay  hands  on  me,  I  '11 
yell  out  like  a  she-spurtindeel,  an'  bring  in  the 
guv'nor,  wot 's  fit  to  wollop  six  o'  you  any  day  with 
his  left  hand." 

This  last  part  of  Billy's  speech  was  made  with 


312  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

additional  fire,   in   consequence   of  Morley  Jones 
taking  a  step  towards  him  in  anger. 

"  Well,  boy,"  he  said,  sternly,  "  hypocrite  or  not, 
you've  learned  yer  lesson  pretty  pat,  so  you  may 
do  as  you  please.  It 's  little  that  a  chip  like  you 
could  do  to  get  me  convicted  on  anything  you  've 
seen  or  heard  as  yet,  an'  if  ye  did  succeed,  it  would 
only  serve  to  give  yourself  a  lift  on  the  way  to  the 
gallows.  But  it  wasn't  to  trouble  myself  about  you 
and  your  wishes  that  I  came  here  for  (the  wily 
rascal  assumed  an  air  and  tone  of  indifference  at 
this  point) ;  if  you  had  only  waited  to  hear  what  I  'd 
got  to  say,  before  you  began  to  spit  fire,  you  might 
have  saved  your  breath.  The  fact  is  that  my  Nora 
is  very  ill — so  ill  that  I  fear  she  stands  a  poor  chance 
o'  gittin'  better.  I  'm  goin'  to  send  her  away  on  a 
long  sea  voyage.  Pr'aps  that  may  do  her  good ;  if 
not,  it 's  all  up  with  her.  She  begged  and  prayed 
me  so  earnestly  to  come  here  and  take  you  down  to 
see  her  before  she  goes,  that  I  could  not  refuse  her — 
particularly  as  I  happened  to  have  business  in  London 
anyhow.  If  I  'd  known  how  you  would  take  it,  I 
would  have  saved  myself  the  trouble  of  comin'. 
However,  I  '11  bid  you  good-day  now." 

"  Jones,"  said  the  boy  earnestly,  "  that 's  a  lie." 
"  Very  good,"  retorted  the  man,  putting  on  his  hat 
carelessly,  "  I  '11  take  back  that  message  with  your 
compliments — eh  ?" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          313 

"No;  but,"  said  Billy,  almost  whimpering  with 
anxiety,  "is  Nora  really  ill?'* 

"  I  9on't  wish  you  to  come  if  you  don't  want  to," 
replied  Jones;  "you "can  stop  here  till  doomsday  for 
me.  But  do  you  suppose  I  'd  come  here  for  the  mere 
amusement  of  hearing  you  give  me  the  lie  ?" 

"  I  '11  go  ! "  said  Billy,  with  as  much  emphasis  as 
he  had  previously  expressed  on  declining  to  go. 

The  matter  was  soon  explained  to  the  manager  of 
the  Grotto.  Mr.  Jones  was  so  plausible,  and  gave 
such  unexceptionable  references,  that  it  is  no  dis- 
paragement to  the  penetration  of  the  superintendent 
of  that  day  to  say  that  he  was  deceived.  The  result 
was,  as  we  have  shown,  that  Billy  ere  long  found 
his  way  to  Eamsgate. 

When  Mr.  Jones  introduced  him  ceremoniously  to 
Nora,  he  indulged  in  a  prolonged  and  hearty  fit  of 
laughter.  Nora  gazed  at  Billy  with  a  look  of  intense 
amazement,  and  Billy  stared  at  Nora  with  a  very 
mingled  expression  of  countenance,  for  he  at  once 
saw  through  the  deception  that  had  been  practised 
on  him,  and  fully  appreciated  the  difficulty  of  his 
position — his  powers  of  explanation  being  hampered 
by  a  warning,  given  him  long  ago  by  his  friend  Jim 
"VVelton,  that  he  must  be  careful  how  he  let  Nora 
into  the  full  knowledge  of  her  father's  wickedness. 


314  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTE.R  XIX. 

» 

CONFIDENCES  AND  CROSS  PURPOSES. 

KATIE  DURANT,  sitting  with  a  happy  smile  on  her 
fair  face,  and  good- will  in  her  sweet  heart  to  all  man- 
kind— womankind  included,  which  says  a  good  deal 
for  her — was  busy  with  a  beautiful  sketch  of  a 
picturesque  watermill,  meditating  on  the  stirring 
scene  she  had  so  recently  witnessed,  when  a  visitor 
was  announced. 

"  Who  can  it  be  ?"  inquired  Katie ;  "papa  is  out, 
you  know,  and  no  one  can  want  me." 

The  lodging-house  keeper,  Mrs.  Cackles,  smiled  at 
the  idea  of  no  one  wanting  Katie,  knowing,  as  she 
did,  that  there  were  at  least  twenty  people  who 
would  have  given  all  they  were  worth  in  the  world 
to  possess  her,  either  in  the  form  of  wife,  sister, 
daughter,  friend,  governess,  or  companion. 

"  Well,  miss,  she  do  wants  you,  and  says  as  no 
one  else  will  do." 

"  Oh,  a  lady,  please  show  her  in,  Mrs.  Cackles." 

"  Well,  she  ain't  a  lady,  either,  though  I  've  seen 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         315 

many  a  lady  as  would  give  their  weight  in  gold  to 
be  like  her." 

So  saying  the  landlady  departed,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  introduced  Nora. 

"  Miss  Jones !"  cried  Katie,  rising  with  a  pleased 
smile  and  holding  out  her  hand;  "this  is  a  very 
unexpected  pleasure." 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Durant.  I  felt  sure  you 
would  remember  me,"  said  Nora,  taking  a  seat,  "  and 
I  also  feel  sure  that  you  will  assist  me  with  your 
advice  in  a  matter  of  some  difficulty,  especially  as 
it  relates  to  the  boy  about  whose  sick  brother  you 
came  to  me  at  Yarmouth  some  time  ago — you  re- 
member ?" 

"  Oh  !  Billy  Towler,"  exclaimed  Katie,  with  anima- 
tion ;  "  yes,  I  remember ;  you  are  right  in  expect- 
ing me  to  be  interested  in  him.  Let  me  hear  all 
about  it." 

Hereupon  Nora  gave  Katie  an  insight  into  much 
of  Billy  Towler's  history,  especially  dwelling  on  that 
part  of  it  which  related  to  his  being  sent  to  the 
Grotto,  in  the  hope  of  saving  him  from  the  evil  in- 
fluences that  were  brought  to  bear  upon  him  in  his 
intercourse  with  her  father. 

"Not,"  she  said,  somewhat  anxiously,  "that  I 
mean  you  to  suppose  my  dear  father  teaches  him 
anything  that  is  wicked ;  but  his  business  leads  him 
much  among  bad  men — and —  they  drink  and  smoke, 


316  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

you  know,  which  is  very  bad  for  a  young  boy  to  see ; 
and  many  of  them  are  awful  swearers.  Now,  poor 
Billy  has  been  induced  to  leave  the  Grotto  and  to 
come  down  here,  for  what  purpose  I  don't  know ;  but 
I  am  so  disappointed,  because  I  had  hoped  he  would 
not  have  got  tired  of  it  so  soon ;  and  what  distresses 
me  most  is,  that  he  does  not  speak  all  his  mind  to 
me ;  I  can  see  that,  for  he  is  very  fond  of  me,  and 
did  not  use  to  conceal  things  from  me — at  least  I 
fancied  not.  The  strange  thing  about  it  too  is,  that 
he  says  he  is  willing  to  return  to  the  Grotto  imme- 
diately, if  I  wish  it." 

"  I  am  very  very  sorry  to  hear  all  this,"  said  Katie, 
with  a  troubled  air ;  "  but  what  do  you  propose  to 
do,  and  how  can  I  assist  you  ? — only  tell  me,  and  I 
shall  be  so  happy  to  do  it,  if  it  be  in  my  power." 

"  I  really  don't  know  how  to  put  it  to  you,  dear 
Miss  Durant,  and  I  could  not  have  ventured  if  you 
had  not  been  so  very  kind  when  I  met  you  in  Yar- 
mouth ;  but — but  your  father  owns  several  vessels, 
I  believe,  and — and — you  will  excuse  me  referring 
to  it,  I  know — he  was  so  good  as  to  get  a  situation 
on  board  of  the  Wellington — which  has  so  unfor- 
tunately been  wrecked — for  a  young — a — a  young 
— man ;  one  of  those  who  was  saved — " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Katie,  quickly,  thinking  of 
Stanley  Hall,  and  blushing  scarlet ;  "  I  know  the 
young  gentleman  to  whom  you  refer ;  well,  go  on." 


OJ  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         317 

"  Well,"  continued  Nora,  thinking  of  Jim  "Welton, 
and  blushing  scarlet  too,  "  that  young  man  said  to 
me  that  he  felt  sure  if  I  were  to  make  application 
to  Mr.  Durant  through  you,  he  would  give  Billy  a 
situation  in  one  of  his  ships,  and  so  get  him  out  of 
harm's  way." 

"He  was  right,"  said  Katie,  with  a  somewhat 
puzzled  expression ;  "  and  you  may  rely  on  my 
doing  what  I  can  for  the  poor  boy  with  papa, 
who  is  always  happy  to  help  in  such  cases ;  but  I 
was  not  aware  that  Mr.  Hall  knew  either  you  or 
Billy." 

"  Mr.  Hall !"  exclaimed  Nora,  in  surprise. 

"Did you  not  refer  to  him  just  now?" 

"  No,  miss ;  I  meant  James  "VVelton." 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  Katie,  prolonging  that  mono- 
syllable in  a  sliding  scale,  ranging  from  low  to  high 
and  back  to  low  again,  which  was  peculiarly  sug 
gestive ;  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  quite  misunderstood 
you  ;  well,  you  may  tell  Mr.  Welton  that  I  will  be- 
friend Billy  to  the  utmost  of  my  power." 

The  door  opened  as  she  spoke,  and  cousin  Fanny 
entered. 

"  Katie,  I  Ve  come  to  tell  you  that  Mr.  Queek — " 

She  stopped  short  on  observing  Nora,  who  rose 
hastily,  thanked  Katie  earnestly  for  the  kind  interest 
she  had  expressed  in  her  little  friend,  and  took  her 
leave. 


318  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  This  is  a  very  interesting  little  incident,  Fan," 
said  Katie  with  delight  when  they  were  alone; 
"  quite  a  romancelet  of  real  life.  Let  me  see ;  here 
is  a  poor  boy — the  boy  who  deceived  us,  you  re- 
member— whom  bad  companions  are  trying  to  decoy 
into  the  wicked  meshes  of  their  dreadful  net,  and  a 
sweet  young  girl,  a  sort  of  guardian  angel  as  it  were, 
comes  to  me  and  asks  my  aid  to  save  the  boy,  and 
have  him  sent  to  sea.  Isn't  it  delightful  ?  Quite 
the  ground-work  of  a  tale — and  might  be  so  nicely 
illustrated,"  added  Katie,  glancing  at  her  drawings. 
"But  forgive  me,  Fan;  I  interrupted  you.  What 
were  you  going  to  tell  me  ?" 

"  Only  that  Mr.  Queeker  cannot  come  to  tea  to- 
night, as  he  has  business  to  attend  to  connected 
with  his  secret  mission,"  replied  Fanny. 

"  How  interesting  it  would  be,"  said  Katie,  musing, 
"  if  we  could  only  manage  to  mix  up  this  mission  of 
Mr.  Queeker's  in  the  plot  of  our  romance ;  wouldn't 
it  ?  Come,  I  will  put  away  my  drawing  for  to-day, 
and  finish  the  copy  of  papa's  quarterly  cash-account 
for  those  dreadful  Board  of  Trade  people ;  then  we 
shall  go  to  the  pier  and  have  a  walk,  and  on  our 
way  we  will  call  on  that  poor  old  bedridden  woman 
whom  papa  has  ferreted  out,  and  give  her  some  tea 
and  sugar.  Isn't  it  strange  that  papa  should  have 
discovered  one  so  soon  ?  I  suppose  you  are  aware 
of  his  penchant  for  old  women,  Fan?" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          319 

"  No,  I  was  not  aware  of  it,"  said  Fan,  smiling. 

Whatever  Fan  said,  she  accompanied  with  a  smile. 
Indeed  a  smile  was  the  necessary  result  of  the 
opening  of  her  littler  mouth  for  whatever  purpose 
— not  an  affected  smile,  but  a  merry  one — which 
always  had  the  effect,  her  face  being  plump,  of  half 
shutting  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Katie,  with  animation,  "  papa  is 
so  fond  of  old  women,  particularly  if  they  are  very 
old,  and  very  little,  and  thin;  they  must  be  thin, 
though.  I  don't  think  he  cares  much  for  them  if 
they  are  fat.  He  says  that  fat  people  are  so  jolly 
that  they  don't  need  to  be  cared  for,  but  he  dotes 
upon  the  little  thin  ones." 

Fanny  smiled,  and  observed  that  that  was  curious. 

"  So  it  is,"  observed  Katie ;  "  now  my  taste  lies  in 
the  direction  of  old  men.  I  like  to  visit  poor  old 
men  much  better  than  poor  old  women,  and  the 
older  and  more  helpless  they  are  the  more  I  like 
them." 

Fanny  smiled  again,  and  observed  that  that  was 
curious  too. 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Katie,  "  very  odd  that  papa  should 
like  the  old  women  and  I  should  like  the  old  men ; 
but  so  it  is.  Now,  Fan,  we  11  get  ready  and — oh  how 
provoking !  That  must  be  another  visitor !  People 
find  papa  out  so  soon  wherever  we  go,  and  then  they 
give  him  no  rest." 


320  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  A  boy  wishes  to  see  you,  miss,"  said  Mrs. 
Cackles. 

"  Me  ? "  exclaimed  Katie  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  miss,  and  he  says  he  wants  to  see  you  alone 
on  important  business." 

Katie  looked  at  Fanny  and  smiled.  Fanny  re- 
turned the  smile,  and  immediately  left  the  room. 

"  Show  him  in,  Mrs.  Cackles." 

The  landlady  withdrew,  and  ushered  in  no  less  a 
personage  than  Billy  Towler  himself,  who  stopped 
at  the  door,  and  stood  with  his  hat  in  his  hand, 
and  an  unusually  confused  expression  in  his  looks. 
"  Please,  miss,"  said  Billy,  "  you  knows  me,  I  think  ?" 

Katie  admitted  that  she  knew  him,  and,  knowing 
in  her  heart  that  she  meant  to  befriend  him,  it  sud- 
denly occurred  to  her  that  it  would  be  well  to  begin 
with  a  little  salutary  severity  by  way  of  punishment 
for  his  former  misdeeds. 

"  Last  time  I  saw  you,  miss,  I  did  you,"  said  Billy 
with  a  slight  grin. 

"  You  did,"  replied  Katie  with  a  slight  frown, 
"  and  I  hope  you  have  come  to  apologize  for  your 
naughty  conduct." 

"  Well,  I  can't  'xactly  say  as  I  have  come  to  do 
that,  but  I  dessay  I  may  as  well  begin  that  way. 
I  'm  very  sorry,  miss,  for  havin'  did  you,  an'  I  've 
called  now  to  see  if  I  can't  do  you  again." 

Katie  could  not  restrain  a  laugh  at  the  impudence 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          321 

of  this  remark,  but  she  immediately  regretted  it, 
because  Billy  took  encouragement  and  laughed  too ; 
she  therefore  frowned  with  intense  severity,  and, 
still  remembering  that  she  meant  ultimately  to 
befriend  the  boy,  resolved  to  make  him  in  the 
meantime  feel  the  consequences  of  his  former  mis- 
deeds. 

"  Come,  boy,"  she  said  sharply,  "  don't  add  imper- 
tinence to  your  wickedness,  but  let  me  know  at  once 
what  you  want  with  me." 

Billy  was  evidently  taken  aback  by  this  rebuff. 
He  looked  surprised,  and 'did  not  seem  to  know  how 
to  proceed.  At  length  he  put  strong  constraint  upon 
himself,  and  said,  in  rather  a  gruff  tone — 

"  Well,  miss,  I — a — the  fact  is — you  know  a  gal 
named  Nora  Jones,  don't  you  ?  Anyhow,  she  knows 
you,  an'  has  said  to  me  so  often  that  you  was  a 
parfect  angel,  that — that — " 

"  That  you  came  to  see,"  interrupted  Katie,  glanc- 
ing at  her  shoulders,  "  whether  I  really  had  wings, 
or  not,  eh  ? " 

Katie  said  this  with  a  still  darker  frown;  for 
she  thought  that  the  urchin  was  jesting.  Nothing 
was  further  from  his  intention.  Knowing  this,  and, 
not  finding  the  angelic  looks  and  tones  which  he 
had  been  led  to  expect,  Billy  felt  still  more  puzzled 
and  inclined  to  be  cross. 

"  Seems  to  me  that  there 's  a  screw  loose  some- 
x 


322  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

wheres,"  said  Billy,  scratching  the  point  of  his  nose 
in  his  vexation.  "Hows'ever,  I  came  here  to  ax 
your  advice,  and  although  you  cer'nly  don't  'ave 
wings  nor  the  style  o'  looks  wot 's  usual  in  'eavenly 
wisiters,  I'll  make  a  clean  breast  of  it — so  here 
goes." 

Hereupon  the  poor  boy  related  how  he  had  been 
decoyed  from  the  Grotto — of  which  establishment 
he  gave  a  graphic  and  glowing  account — and  said 
that  he  was  resolved  to  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  Morley  Jones,  but  meant  to  return  to  the 
Grotto  without  delay — that  evening  if  possible.  He 
had  a  difficulty,  however,  which  was,  that  he  could 
not  speak  freely  to  Nora  about  her  father,  for  fear 
of  hurting  her  feelings  or  enlightening  her  too  much 
as  to  his  true  character,  in  regard  to  which  she  did 
not  yet  know  the  worst.  One  evil  result  of  this 
was  that  she  had  begun  to  suspect  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  as  to  his  own  affection  for  herself — 
which  was  altogether  a  mistake.  Billy  made  the 
last  remark  with  a  flush  of  earnest  indignation  and 
a  blow  of  his  small  hand  on  his  diminutive  knee ! 
He  then  said  that  another  evil  result  was  that  he 
could  not  see  his  way  to  explain  to  Nora  why  he 
wished  to  be  off  in  such  a  hurry,  and,  worst  of  all,  he 
had  not  a  sixpence  in  the  world  wherewith  to  pay  his 
fare  to  London,  and  had  no  means  of  getting  one. 

"  And  so,"  said  Katie,  still  keeping  up  her  ficti- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          323 

tious  indignation,  "you  come  to  beg  money  from 
me?" 

"  Not  to  beg,  Miss — to  borrer." 

"  Ah !  and  thus  to'  do  me  a  second  time,"  said 
Katie. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Katie's  sympathetic 
heart  had  suddenly  become  adamantine.  On  the 
contrary,  she  had  listened  with  deep  interest  to  all 
that  her  youthful  visitor  had  to  say,  and  rejoiced 
in  the  thought  that  she  had  given  to  her  such  a 
splendid  opportunity  of  doing  good  and  frustrating 
evil ;  but  the  little  spice  of  mischief  in  her  cha- 
racter induced  her  still  to  keep  up  the  fiction  of 
being  suspicious,  in  order  to  give  Billy  a  salutary 
lesson.  In  addition  to  this,  she  had  not  quite  got 
over  the  supposed  insult  of  being  mistaken  for  an 
angel !  She  therefore  declined,  in  the  meantime, 
to  advance  the  required  sum — ten-and-sixpence — 
although  the  boy  earnestly  promised  to  repay  her 
with  his  first  earnings. 

"  No,"  she  said,  with  a  gravity  which  she  found 
it  difficult  to  maintain,  "  I  cannot  give  you  such  a 
sum  until  I  have  seen  and  consulted  with  my  father 
on  the  subject;  but  I  may  tell  you  that  I  respect  your 
sentiments  regarding  Nora  and  your  intention  to  for- 
sake your  evil  ways.  If  you  will  call  here  again  in 
the  evening  I  will  see  what  can  be  done  for  you." 

Saying  this,  and  meditating  in  her  heart  that  she 


324  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

would  not  only  give  Billy  the  ten-and-sixpence  to 
enable  him  to  return  to  the  Grotto,  but  would  in- 
duce her  father  to  give  him  permanent  employment 
in  one  of  his  ships,  she  showed  Billy  to  the  door,  and 
bade  him  be  a  good  boy  and  take  care  of  himself. 

Thereafter  she  recalled  Fanny,  and,  for  her  benefit, 
re-enacted  the  whole  scene  between  herself  and 
Billy  Towler,  in  a  manner  so  graphic  and  enthusi- 
astic, as  to  throw  that  amiable  creature  into  convul- 
sions of  laughter,  which  bade  fair  to  terminate  her 
career  in  a  premature  fit  of  juvenile  apoplexy. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         325 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

MYSTERIOUS  DOINGS. 

DISAPPOINTED,  displeased,  and  sorely  puzzled,  Billy 
Towler  took  his  way  towards  the  harbour,  with  his 
hands  thrust  desperately  into  his  pockets,  and  an 
unwonted  expression  of  discontent  on  his  counte- 
nance. So  deeply  did  he  take  the  matter  to  heart, 
that  he  suffered  one  small  boy  to  inquire  patheti- 
cally "  if  'ed  bin  long  in  that  state  o'  grumps  ? " 
and  another  to  suggest  that  "  if  'e  couldn't  be  'appier 
than  that,  'ed  better  go  an'  drown  hisself,"  without 
vouchsafing  a  retort,  or  even  a  glance  of  recognition. 

Passing  the  harbour,  he  went  down  to  the  beach, 
and  there  unexpectedly  met  with  Mr.  Morley  Jones. 

"  Hallo !  my  young  bantam,"  exclaimed  Morley, 
with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  "Well,  old  Cochin-china,  wot 's  up  ?"  replied  Billy, 
in  a  gruff  tone.  "  Drunk  as  usual,  I  see." 

Being  somewhat  desperate,  the  boy  did  not  see, 
or  did  not  mind  the  savage  glance  with  which  Mr. 


326  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Jones  favoured  him.  The  glance  was,  however,  ex- 
changed quickly  for  an  idiotic  smile,  as  he  retorted — 

"  Well,  I  ain't  so  drunk  but  I  can  see  to  steer 
my  course,  lad.  Come,  I  Ve  got  a  noo  boat,  what 
d'  ye  say  to  go  an'  have  a  sail  ?  The  fact  is,  Billy,  I 
was  just  on  my  way  up  to  the  house  to  ax  you  to 
go  with  me,  so  it's  good  luck  that  I  didn't  miss 
you.  Will 'ee  go,  lad?" 

At  any  other  time  the  boy  would  have  refused ; 
but  his  recent  disappointment  in  regard  to  the 
angelic  nature  of  Katie  still  rankled  so  powerfully 
in  his  breast,  that  he  swung  round  and  said — 

"  Get  along,  then — I  'm  your  man — it 's  all  up  now 
— never  say  die — in  for  a  penny  in  for  a  pound," 
and  a  variety  of  similar  expressions,  all  of  which 
tended  to  convince  Mr.  Jones  that  Billy  Towler 
happened  to  be  in  a  humour  that  was  extremely 
suitable  to  his  purposes.  He  therefore  led  him 
towards  his  boat,  which,  he  said,  was  lying  on  the 
beach  at  Broadstairs  all  ready  to  shove  off. 

The  distance  to  Broadstairs  was  about  two  miles, 
and  the  walk  thither  was  enlivened  by  a  drunken 
commentary  on  the  fallacy  of  human  hopes  in  general 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Jones,  and  a  brisk  fire  of  caustic 
repartee  on  the  part  of  Master  Towler. 

A  close  observer  might  have  noticed  that,  while 
these  two  were  passing  along  the  beach,  at  the  base 
of  the  high  cliffs  of  chalk  running  between  Ramsgate 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          327 

and  Broadstairs,  two  heads  were  thrust  cautiously 
out  of  one  of  the  small  caverns  or  recesses  which 
have  been  made  in  these  cliffs  by  the  action  of  the 
waves.  The  one  heatl  bore  a  striking  resemblance 
to  that  of  Eobert  Queeker,  Esq.,  and  the  other  to 
that  of  Mr.  Larks. 

How  these  two  came  to  be  together,  and  to  be 
there,  it  is  not  our  business  to  say.  Authors  are 
fortunately  not  bound  to  account  for  everything 
they  relate.  All  that  we  know  is,  that  Mr.  Queeker 
was  there  in  the  furtherance,  probably,  of  his  secret 
mission,  and  that  Mr.  Larks'  missions  appeared  to  be 
always  more  or  less  secret.  At  all  events,  there  they 
were  together;  fellow-students,  apparently,  of  the 
geology  or  conchology  of  that  region,  if  one  might 
judge  from  the  earnest  manner  in  which  they  stooped 
and  gazed  at  the  sands,  and  picked  up  bits  of  flint 
or  small  shells,  over  which  they  held  frequent,  and, 
no  doubt,  learned  discussions  of  an  intensely  en- 
grossing nature. 

It  might  have  been  also  noticed  by  a  close  ob- 
server, that  these  stoopings  to  pick  up  specimens, 
and  these  stoppages  to  discuss,  invariably  occurred 
when  Mr.  Jones  and  Master  Billy  chanced  to  pause 
or  to  look  behind  them.  At  last  the  boat  was 
reached.  It  lay  on  the  beach  not  far  from  the 
small  harbour  of  Broadstairs,  already  surrounded  by 
the  rising  tide.  About  the  same  time  the  geological 


328  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

and  conchological  studies  of  Messrs.  Queeker  and 
Larks  coming  to  an  end,  these  scientific  men  betook 
themselves  suddenly  to  the  shelter  of  a  small  cave, 
whence  they  sat  watching,  with  intense  interest,  the 
movements  of  the  man  and  boy,  thus  proving  them- 
selves gifted  with  a  truly  Baconian  spirit  of  general 
inquiry  into  simple  facts,  with  a  view  to  future  in- 
ductions. 

"  Jump  in,  Billy,"  said  Jones,  "  and  don't  wet  your 
feet ;  I  can  easily  shove  her  off  alone."  . 

Billy  obeyed. 

"  Hallo !  wot  have  'ee  got  here  ? "  he  cried,  touch- 
ing a  large  tarpaulin  bag  with  his  foot. 

"  Only  some  grub,"  answered  Jones,  putting  his 
shoulder  to  the  bow  of  the  boat. 

"  And  a  compass  too  ! "  cried  Billy,  looking  round 
in  surprise. 

"Ay,  it  may  come  on  thick,  you  know,"  said 
Jones,  as  the  boat's  keel  grated  over  the  sand. 

"  I  say,  stop  ! "  cried  Billy ;  "  you  're  up  to  some 
mischief ;  come,  let  me  ashore." 

Mr.  Jones  made  no  reply,  but  continued  to  push 
off  the  boat.  Seeing  this,  the  boy  leaped  overboard, 
but  Jones  caught  him.  Eor  one  instant  there  was 
a  struggle ;  then  poor  Billy  was  lifted  in  the  strong 
man's  arms,  and  hurled  back  into  the  boat.  Next 
moment  it  was  afloat,  and  Jones  leaped  inboard. 
Billy  was  not  to  be  overcome  so  easily,  however. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         329 

He  sprang  up,  and  again  made  a  leap  over  the  gun- 
wale, but  Jones  caught  him  by  the  collar,  and,  after 
a  severe  struggle,  dragged  him  into  the  boat,  and 
gave  him  a  blow  on  tEe  head  with  his  clenched  fist, 
which  stunned  him.  Then,  seizing  the  oars,  he 
pulled  of£  After  getting  well  away  from  the  beach 
he  hoisted  a  small  lug- sail,  and  stood  out  to  sea. 

All  this  was  witnessed  by  the  scientific  men  in 
the  cave  through  a  couple  of  small  pocket-telescopes, 
which  brought  the  expression  of  Jones's  and  Billy's 
countenances  clearly  into  view.  At  first  Mr. 
Queeker,  with  poetic  fervour,  started  up,  intent  on 
rushing  to  the  rescue  of  the  oppressed;  but  Mr. 
Larks,  with  prosaic  hardness  of  heart,  held  him 
forcibly  back,  and  told  him  to  make  his  mind  easy, 
adding  that  Mr.  Jones  had  no  intention  of  doing 
the  boy  any  further  harm.  Whereupon  Queeker 
submitted  with  a  sigh.  The  two  friends  then  issued 
from  the  cave,  shook  hands,  and  bade  each  other 
goodbye  with  a  laugh — the  man  with  the  keen  grey 
eyes  following  the  path  that  led  to  Broadstairs,  while 
the  lawyer's  clerk  returned  to  Eamsgate  by  the 
beach. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  went  down,  and  the  lanterns 
of  the  Goodwin,  the  Gull,  and  the  South  sandhcad 
floating  lights  went  up.  The  shades  of  evening  fell, 
and  the  stars  came  out — one  by  one  at  first ;  then 
by  twos  and  threes  ;  at  last  by  bursts  of  constella- 


330  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

tions,  until  the  whole  heavens  glowed  with  a 
galaxy  of  distant  worlds.  During  all  this  time  Mr. 
Jones  sat  at  the  helm  of  his  little  boat,  and  held 
steadily  out  to  sea.  The  wind  being  light,  he  made 
small  progress,  but  that  circumstance  did  not  seem 
to  trouble  him  much, 

"  You  'd  better  have  a  bit  supper,  lad,"  said  Jones 
in  a  careless  way.  "  Of  course  you  're  welcome  to 
starve  yourself,  if  'ee  choose,  but  by  so  doin'  you  '11 
only  make  yourself  uncomfortable  for  nothing. 
You  're  in  for  it  now,  an'  can't  help  yourself." 

Billy  was  seated  on  one  of  the  thwarts,  looking 
very  savage,  with  his  right  eye  nearly  closed  by  the 
blow  which  had  caused  him  to  succumb. 

"P'r'aps  I  mayn't  be  able  to  help  myself,"  he 
replied,  "  but  I  can  peach  upon  you,  anyhow." 

"  So  you  can,  my  lad,  if  you  want  to  spend  eight 
or  ten  years  in  limbo,"  retorted  Jones,  spitting  out 
his  quid  of  tobacco,  and  supplying  its  place  with  a 
new  one.  "  You  and  I  are  in  the  same  boat,  Billy, 
whether  ashore  or  afloat;  we  sink  or  swim  to- 
gether." 

No  more  was  said  for  some  time.  Jones  knew 
that  the  boy  was  in  his  power,  and  resolved  to  bide 
his  time.  Billy  felt  tha**he  had  at  least  the  chance 
of  being  revenged  if  he  chose  to  sacrifice  himself,  so 
he  "  nursed  his  wrath  to  keep  it  warm." 

About  an  hour  afterwards  a  squall  struck  the  boat, 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          331 

and  nearly  capsized  it;  "but  Jones,  who  was  quite 
sobered  by  that  time,  threw  her  head  quickly  into 
the  wind,  and  Billy,  forgetting  everything  else,  leaped 
up  with  his  wonted  activity,  loosened  the  sail,  and 
reefed  it.  The  squall  soon  passed  away,  and  left 
them  almost  becalmed,  as  before. 

"  That  was  well  done,  Billy,"  said  Jones,  in  a 
cheerful  tone  ;  "  you  'd  make  a  smart  sailor,  my  lad." 

Billy  made  no  repty;  and,  despite  his  efforts  to 
the  contrary,  felt  highly  flattered.  He  also  felt  the 
pangs  of  hunger,  and,  after  resisting  them  for  some 
time,  resolved  to  eat,  as  it  were,  under  protest.  With 
a  reckless,  wilful  air,  therefore,  he  opened  the  tar- 
paulin bag,  and  helped  himself  to  a  large  "  hunk  " 
of  bread  and  a  piece  of  cheese.  "Whereupon  Mr. 
Jones  smiled  grimly,  and  remarked  that  there  was 
nothing  like  grub  for  giving  a  man  heart — except 
grog,  he  added,  producing  a  case-bottle  from  his 
pocket  and  applying  it  to  his  mouth. 

"  Have  a  pull,  lad  ?  No  !  well,  please  yourself. 
I  ain't  goin'  to  join  the  temperance  move  myself 
yet,"  said  Jones,  replacing  the  bottle  in  his  pocket. 

The  short  squall  having  carried  the  boat  nearer  to 
the  Gull  lightship  than  was  desirable,  Mr.  Jonea 
tried  to  keep  as  far  off  from  her  as  possible,  while 
the  tide  should  sweep  them  past;  but  the  wind 
having  almost  died  away,  he  did  not  succeed  in 
this ;  however,  he  knew  that  darkness  would  prevent 


332  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

recognition,  so  he  thought  it  best  not  to  take  to  the 
oars,  but  to  hold  on,  intending  to  slip  quietly  by, 
not  supposing  that  Billy  would  think  it  of  any  use 
to  hail  the  vessel;  but  Billy  happened  to  think 
otherwise. 

"  Gull  ahoy  !  hoy ! "  he  shouted  at  the  top  of  his 
shrill  voice. 

"Boat  ahoy!"  responded  Jack  Shales,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  on  duty  ;  but  no  response  was  given  to 
Jack,  for  the  good  reason  that  Jones  had  instantly 
clapped  his  hand  on  Billy's  mouth,  and  half- choked 
him, 

"  That 's  odd,"  remarked  Jack,  after  repeating  his 
cry  twice.  "  I  could  swear  it  was  the  voice  of  that 
sharp  little  rascal  Billy  Towler." 

"  If  it  wasn't  it  was  his  ghost,"  replied  Jerry  Mac- 
Gowl,  who  chanced  to  be  on  deck  at  the  time. 

"  Sure  enough  it 's  very  ghost-like,"  said  Shales, 
as  the  boat  glided  silently  and  slowly  out  of  the 
circle  of  the  lantern's  light,  and  faded  from  their 
vision. 

Mr.  Jones  did  not  follow  up  his  act  with  further 
violence.  He  merely  assured  Billy  that  he  was  a 
foolish  fellow,  and  that  it  was  of  no  use  to  struggle 
against  his  fate. 

.As  time  wore  on,  poor  Billy  felt  dreadfully  sleepy, 
and  would  have  given  a  good  deal  for  some  of  the 
grog  in  Ms  companion's  case-bottle,  but,  resolving 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          333 

to  stand  upon  his  dignity,  would  not  condescend  to 
ask  for  it.  At  length  he  lay  down  and  slept,  and 
Jones  covered  him  with  a  pilot-coat. 

No  soft  spot  in  the  scoundrel's  heart  induced  him 
to  perform  this  act  of  apparent  kindness.  He  knew 
the  poor  boy's  temperament,  and  resolved  to  attack 
him  on  his  weakest  point. 

When  Billy  awoke  the  day  was  just  breaking. 
He  stretched  himself,  yawned,  sat  up,  and  looked 
about  him  with  the  confused  air  of  one  not  quite 
awake. 

"  Hallo  ! "  he  cried  gaily,  "  where  on  earth  am  I  ?" 

"  You  ain't  on  earth,  lad ;  you  're  afloat,"  replied 
Jones,  who  still  sat  at  the  helm. 

At  once  the  boy  remembered  everything,  and 
shrank  within  himself.  As  he  did  so,  he  observed 
the  pilot-coat  which  covered  him,  and  knew  that  it 
must  have  been  placed  where  it  was  by  Jones.  His 
resolution  to  hold  out  was  shaken ;  still  he  did  not 
give  in. 

Mr.  Jones  now  began  to  comment  in  a  quiet  good- 
natured  way  upon  the  weather  and  the  prospects  of 
the  voyage  (which  excited  Billy's  curiosity  very 
much),  and  suggested  that  breakfast  would  not  be  a 
bad  thing,  and  that  a  drop  o'  rum  might  be  agree- 
able, but  took  care  never  to  make  his  remarks  so 
pointed  as  to  call  for  an  answer.  Just  as  the  sun 
was  rising  he  got  up  slowly,  cast  loose  the  stays  and 


334  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

halyards  of  mast  and  sail,  lifted  the  mast  out  of  its 
place,  and  deliberately  hove  the  whole  affair  over- 
board, remarking  in  a  quiet  tone  that,  having  served 
his  purpose,  he  didn't  want  mast  or  sail  any  longer. 
In  the  same  deliberate  way  he  unshipped  the  rudder 
and  cast  it  away.  He  followed  this  up  by  throwing 
overboard  one  of  the  oars,  and  then  taking  the  only 
remaining  oar,  he  sculled  and  steered  the  boat  there- 
with gently. 

Billy,  who  thought  his  companion  must  be  either 
drunk  or  mad,  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 

"  I  say,  old  fellow,"  he  remarked,  "  you  're  comin' 
it  pretty  strong  !  Wot  on  earth  are  you  up  to,  and 
where  in  all  the  world  are  'ee  goin'  to  ? " 

"  Oh  come,  you  know,"  answered  Jones  in  a  re- 
monstrative  tone,  "  I  may  be  an  easy-goin'  chap,  but 
I  can't  be  expected  to  tell  all  my  secrets  except  to 
friends." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Billy,  with  a  sigh,  "  it 's  no  use 
tryin'  to  hold  out.  I  '11  be  as  friendly  as  I  can ; 
only  I  tells  you  candid,  1 11  mizzle  whenever  I  gits 
ashore.  I  'm  not  agoin'  to  tell  no  end  o'  lies  to 
please  you  any  longer,  so  I  give  'ee  fair  warning," 
said  Billy  stoutly. 

"  All  right,  my  lad,"  said  the  wily  Jones,  who  felt 
that  having  subdued  the  boy  thus  far,  he  would 
have  little  difficulty  in  subduing  him  still  further,  in 
course  of  time,  and  by  dint  of  judicious  treatment ; 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         335 

"I  don't  want  'ee  to  tell  lies  on  my  account,  an' 
I  '11  let  you  go  free  as  soon  as  ever  we  get  ashore. 
So  now,  let 's  shake  hands  over  it,  and  have  a  glass 
o'  grog  and  a  bit  o'  breakfast." 

Billy  shook  hands,  and  took  a  sip  out  of  the  case- 
bottle,  by  way  of  clenching  the  reconciliation.  The 
two  then  had  breakfast  together,  and,  while  this 
meal  was  in  progress,  Jones  informed  his  little 
friend  of  the  nature  of  the  "  game  "  he  was  engaged 
in  playing  out. 

"  You  must  know,  my  lad,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "  that 
you  and  I  have  been  wrecked.  "We  are  the  only 
survivors  of  the  brig  Skylark,  which  was  run  down 
in  a  fog  by  a  large  three-masted  screw  steamer  on  the 
night  of  the  thirteenth — that's  three  nights  ago, 
Billy.  The  Skylark  sank  immediately,  and  every 
soul  on  board  was  lost  except  you  and  me,  because 
the  steamer,  as  is  too  often  the  case  in  such  acci- 
dents, passed  on  and  left  us  to  our  fate.  You  and 
I  was  saved  by  consequence  of  bein'  smart  and 
gettin'  into  this  here  small  boat — which  is  one  o'  the 
Skylark's  boats — only  Justin  time  to  save  ourselves ; 
but  she  had  only  one  oar  in  her,  and  no  mast,  or 
sail,  or  rudder,  as  you  see,  Billy;  nevertheless  we 
managed  to  keep  her  goin'  with  the  one  oar  up  to 
this  time,  and  no  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Jones  with  a  grin, 
"  we  '11  manage  to  keep  her  goin'  till  we  're  picked 
up  and  carried  safe  into  port." 


336  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Billy's  eyes  had  opened  very  wide  and  very  round 
as  Mr.  Jones's  description  proceeded ;  gradually,  as 
his  surprise  increased,  his  mouth  also  opened  and 
elongated,  but  he  said  never  a  word,  though  he 
breathed  hard. 

"  Now,  Billy,  my  boy,"  pursued  Mr.  Jones,  "  I  tell 
'ee  all  this,  of  course,  in  strict  confidence.  The  Sky- 
lark, you  must  know,  was  loaded  with  a  valuable 
cargo  of  fine  herrings,  worth  about  £200.  There 
was  780  barrels  of  'em,  and  800  boxes.  The  brig 
was  worth  £100,  so  the  whole  affair  was  valued  at 
£300  sterling." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  Billy,  catching 
his  breath,  "  that  there  warn't  never  no  such  a  wessel 
as  the  Skylark?" 

"Never  that  I  know  of,"  replied  Jones  with  a 
smile,  "except  in  my  brain,  and  on  the  books  o* 
several  insurance  companies." 

Billy's  eyes  and  mouth  grew  visibly  rounder,  but 
he  said  nothing  more,  and  Mr.  Jones,  renewing  his 
quid,  went  on — • 

"  Well,  my  lad,  before  this  here  Skylark  left  the 
port  of  London  for  Cherbourg,  I  insured  her  in  no 
fewer  than  five  insurance  Companies.  You  '11  under- 
stand that  that  ain't  regular,  my  boy,  but  at  each 
office  I  said  that  the  vessel  was  not  insured  in  any 
other,  and  they  believed  me.  You  must  know  that 
a  good  deal  of  business  is  done  by  these  Companies 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          337 

in  good  faith,  which  gives  a  chance  to  smart  fellows 
like  me  and  you  to  turn  an  honest  penny,  d'  ye  see  ? 
They  are  pretty  soft,  luckily." 

Mr.  Jones  happened  to  be  mistaken  in  this 
opinion,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  but  Billy  believed 
him  at  the  time,  and  wondered  that  they  were  "  so 
green." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Jones,  counting  on  his  fingers, 
"  I'm  in  for  £300  with  the  Advance  Company,  and 
£300  with  the  Tied  Harbours  Company,  and  £225 
with  the  Home  and  Abroad  Company,  and  £200 
with  the  Submarine  Company,  and  '£300  with  the 
Friend-in-need  Company — the  whole  makin'  a  snug 
little  sum  of  £1325.  'In  for  a  penny,  in  for  a 
pound,'  is  my  motto,  you  see  ;  so,  lad,  you  and  I  shall 
make  our  fortunes,  if  all  goes  well,  and  you  only 
continue  game  and  clever." 

This  last  remark  was  a  feeler,  and  Mr.  Jones 
paused  to  observe  its  effect/  but  he  could  scarce 
refrain  from  laughter,  for  Billy's  eyes  and  mouth 
now  resembled  three  extremely  round  O's  with  his 
nose  like  a  fat  mark  of  admiration  in  the  midst. 

A  gusty  sigh  was  all  the  response  he  gave,  how- 
ever, so  Mr.  Jones  continued — 

"We've  been  out  about  thirty  hours,  starvin' 
in  this  here  little  boat,  you  and  I,  so  now  it 's  about 
time  we  wos  picked  up  ;  and  as  I  see  a  vessel  on  our 
larboard-beam  that  looks  like  a  foreigner,  we  11  throw 

Y 


338  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  grub  overboard,  have  another  pull  at  the  grog- 
bottle,  and  hoist  a  signal  of  distress." 

In  pursuance  of  these  intentions  Jones  applied 
the  case-bottle  to  his  lips,  and  took  a  long  pull, 
after  which  he  offered  it  to  Billy,  who  however 
declined.  He  then  threw  the  bread-bag  into  the 
sea,  and  tying  his  handkerchief  to  the  oar  after 
the  manner  of  a  flag,  set  it  up  on  end  and  awaited 
the  result. 

The  vessel  alluded  to  was  presently  observed  to 
alter  its  course  and  bear  down  on  the  boat,  and  now 
Billy  felt  that  the  deciding  time  had  come.  He  sat 
gazing  at  the  approaching  vessel  in  silence.  Was 
he  to  give  in  to  his  fate  and  agree  to  tell  lies  through 
thick  and  thin  in  order  to  further  the  designs  of  Mr. 
Jones,  or  was  he  to  reveal  all  the  moment  he  should 
get  on  board  the  vessel,  and  take  the  consequences  ? 
He  thought  of  Katie,  and  resolved  to  give  up  the 
struggle  against  evil'  Then  Nora  rose  up  in  his 
mind's  eye,  and  he  determined  to  do  the  right.  Then 
he  thought  of  transportation  for  a  prolonged  term  of 
years,  with  which  Jones  threatened  him,  and  he  felt 
inclined  to  turn  again  into  the  wrong  road  to  escape 
from  that ;  presently  he  remembered  the  Grotto,  and 
the  lessons  of  truth  to  God  and  man  that  he  had 
learned  there,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  fight  in 
the  cause  of  truth  to  the  last  gasp. 

Mr.  Jones  watched  his  face  keenly,  and  came  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          339 

the  conclusion  that  he  had  quelled  the  boy,  and 
should  now  find  him  a  willing  and  useful  tool,  but 
in  order  to  make  still  more  sure,  he  employed  the 
few  minutes  that  renTained  to  him  in  commenting 
on  the  great  discomfort  of  a  convict's  life,  and  the 
great  satisfaction  that  accrued  from  making  one's 
fortune  at  a  single  stroke. 

This  talk  was  not  without  its  effect.  Billy  wavered. 
Before  he  could  make  up  his  mind  they  were  along- 
side the  strange  vessel,  and  next  moment  on  her 
deck.  Mr.  Jones  quickly  explained  the  circum- 
stances of  the  loss  of  the  Skylark  to  the  sympathetic 
captain.  'Billy  listened  in  silence,  and,  by  silence, 
had  assented  to  the  falsehood.  It  was  too  late  now 
to  mend  matters,  so  he  gave  way  to  despair,  which 
in  him  frequently,  if  not  usually,  assumed  the  form 
of  reckless  joviality. 

While  this  spirit  was  strong  upon  him  he  swore 
to  anything.  He  not  only  admitted  the  truth  of 
all  that  his  tempter  advanced,  but  entertained  the 
seamen  with  a  lively  and  graphic  account  of  the 
running  down  of  the  Skylark,  and  entered  into 
minute  particulars — chiefly  of  a  comical  nature — 
with  such  recklessness  that  the  cause  of  Mr.  Jones 
bade  fair  to  resemble  many  a  roast  which  is  totally 
ruined  by  being  overdone.  Jones  gave  him  a  salu- 
tary check,  however,  on  being  landed  next  day  at 
a  certain  town  on  the  Kentish  coast,  so  that  when 


340  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

Billy  was  taken  "before  the  authorities,  his  state- 
ments were  brought  somewhat  more  into  accord  with 
those  of  his  tempter. 

The  wily  Mr.  Jones  went  at  once  with  Billy  to 
the  chief  officer  of  the  coast-guard  on  that  station, 
and  reported  the  loss  of  his  vessel  with  much  minute- 
ness of  detail — to  the  effect  that  she  had  sailed  from 
London  at  noon  of  a  certain  date,  at  the  quarter  ebb 
tide,  the  sky  being  cloudy  and  wind  sou'- west ;  that 
the  casualty  occurred  at  five  P.M.  on  the  day  follow- 
ing near  the  North  Foreland  Light,  at  half  flood  tide, 
the  sky  being  cloudy  and  wind  west-sou'-west ;  that 
the  vessel  had  sunk,  and  all  the  crew  had  perished 
excepting  himself  and  the  boy.  This  report,  with 
full  particulars,  was  sent  to  the  Board  of  Trade. 
Mr.  Jones  then  went  to  the  agent  for  the  Ship- 
wrecked Mariners'  Society  and  related  his  pitiful 
tale  to  him.  That  gentleman  happening  to  be  an 
astute  man,  observed  some  discrepancies  in  the 
accounts  given  respectively  by  Billy  and  his  master. 
He  therefore  put  a  variety  of  puzzling  questions, 
and  'took  down  a  good  many  notes.  Mr.  Jones, 
however,  had  laid  his  plans  so  well,  and  gave  such 
a  satisfactory  and  plausible  account  of  himself,  that 
the  agent  felt  constrained  to  extend  to  him  the  aid 
of  the  noble  Society  which  he  represented,  and  by 
which  so  much  good  is  done  to  sailors  directly,  and 
indirectly  to  the  community  at  large.  He  paid 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          341 

their  passage  to  London,  but  resolved  to  make  some 
further  inquiries  with  a  view  either  to  confirming 
or  allaying  his  suspicions. 

These  little  matters  settled,  and  the  loss  having 
been  duly  advertised  in  the  newspapers,  Mr.  Jones 
set  out  for  London  with  the  intention  of  presenting 
his  claims  to  the  Insurance  Companies. 

In  the  train  Billy  had  time  to  reflect  on  the 
wickedness  of  which  Jhe  had  been  guilty,  and  his 
heart  was  torn  with  conflicting  emotions,  among 
which  repentance  was  perhaps  the  most  powerful. 
But  what,  he  thought,  was  the  use  of  repentance 
now  ?  The  thing  was  done  and  could  not  be  undone. 

Could  it  not  ?  Was  it  too  late  to  mend  ?  At  the 
Grotto  he  had  been  taught  that  it  was  "  never  too 
late  to  mend" — but  that  it  was  sinful  as  well  as 
dangerous  to  delay  on-  the  strength  of  that  fact ; 
that  "  now  was  the  accepted  time,  now  the  day  of 
salvation."  When  Billy  thought  of  these  things, 
and  then  looked  at  the  stern  inexorable  face  of  the 
man  by  whom  he  had  been  enslaved,  he  began  to 
give  way  to  despair.  When  he  thought  of  his  good 
angel  Nora,  he  felt  inclined  to  leap  out  of  the  car- 
riage window  and  escape  or  die !  He  restrained 
himself,  however,  and  did  nothing  until  the  train 
arrived  in  London.  Then  he  suddenly  burst  away 
from  his  captor,  dived  between  the  legs  of  a  magni- 
ficent railway  guard,  whose  dignity  and  person  were 


342  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

overthrown  by  the  shock,  eluded  the  ticket- collector 
and  several  policemen,  and  used  his  active  little 
legs  so  well  that  in  a  few  minutes  his  pursuers  lost 
him  in  a  labyrinth  of  low  streets  not  far  distant 
from  the  station. 

From  this  point  he  proceeded  at  a  rapid  though 
less  furious  pace  direct  to  the  Grotto,  where  he 
presented  himself  to  the  superintendent  with  the 
remark  that  he  had  "  come  back  to  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it." 


OF  T1IE  GOODWIN  SANDS  343 


CHAPTETC  XXL 

» 

ON  THE  SCENT. 

LET  us  change  the  scene  and  put  back  the  clock. 
Ah,  how  many  hearts  would  rejoice  if  it  were  as 
easy  to  return  on  the  track  of  Time  in  real  life  as 
it  is  to  do  so  in  a  tale ! 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  day  in  which  Jones  and 
Billy  went  to  sea  in  the  little  boat.  Ramsgate, 
Mr.  Durant's  supper-table,  with  Stanley  Hall  and 
Eobert  Queeker  as  guests. 

They  were  all  very  happy  and  merry,  for  Stanley 
was  recounting  with  graphic  power  some  of  the 
incidents  of  his  recent  voyage.  Mr.  Durant  was 
rich  enough  to  take  the  loss  of  his  vessel  with  great 
equanimity — all  the  more  so  that  it  had  been  fully 
insured.  Mr.  Queeker  was  in  a  state  of  bliss  in 
consequence  of  having  been  received  graciously  by 
Fanny,  whose  soul  was  aflame  with  sentiment  so 
powerful  that  she  could  not  express  it  except  through 
the  medium  of  a  giggle.  Only  once  had  Fanny 


344  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

been  enabled  to  do  full  justice  to  herself,  and  that 
was  when,  alone  with  Katie  in  the  mysterious 
gloom  of  a  midnight  confabulation,  she  suddenly 
observed  that  size  and  looks  in  men  were  absolutely 
nothing — less  than  nothing — and  that  in  her  estima- 
tion heart  and  intellect  were  everything ! 

In  the  midst  of  his  mirth  Mr.  Ivurant  suddenly 
turned  to  Queekcr  and  said — 

"  By  the  way,  what  made  you  so  late  of  coming 
to-night,  Queeker  ?  I  thought  you  had  promised  to 
come  to  tea." 

"  Well,  yes,  but — a — that  is,"  stammered  Queeker 
in  confusion,  "in  fact  I  was  obliged  to  keep  an 
appointment  in  connection  with  the — the  particular 
business — " 

"The  secret  mission,  in  short,"  observed  Katie, 
with  a  peculiar  smile. 

"Well,  secret  mission  if  you  choose,"  laughed 
Queeker;  "at  all  events  it  was  that  which  prevented 
iny  getting  here  sooner.  In  truth,  I  did  not  expect 
to  have  managed  to  come  so  soon,  but  we  came  to 
the  boat—" 

Queeker  stopped  short  and  blushed  violently, 
feeling  that  he  had  slightly,  though  unintentionally, 
committed  himself. 

Fanny  looked  at  him,  blushed  in  sympathy,  and 
giggled. 

"  Oh,  there 's  a  "boat  in  the  secret  mission,  is  there  ?" 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  345 

cried  Stanley;  "come,  let  us  make  a  game  of  it. 
Was  it  an  iron  boat?" 

"  No,"  replied  Queerer,  laughing,  for  he  felt  that 
at  all  events  he  was  safe  in  answering  that  question. 

"  Was  it  a  wooden  one  ?"  asked  Katie. 

"Well— ye— " 

"Was  it  a  big  one?"  demanded  Mr.  Durant, 
entering  into  the  spirit  of  the  game. 

"  No,  it  was  a  little  one,"  said  Queeker,  still  feel- 
ing safe,  although  anxious  to  evade  reply. 

"  Was  there  a  man  in  it  ?"  said  Katie. 

Queeker  hesitated. 

"  And  a  boy  ?"  cried  Stanley. 

The  question.was  put  unwittingly,  but  being  so 
put  Queeker  stammered,  and  again  blushed. 

Katie  on  the  contrary  turned  pale,  for  her  pre- 
viously expressed  hope  that  there  might  be  some 
connection  between  Queeker's  mission  and  Billy 
Towler's  troubles  flashed  into  her  mind. 

"  But  was  there  a  boy  in  it  ?"  she  said,  with  a 
sudden  earnestness  that  induced  every  one  to  look  at 
her  in  surprise. 

"  Really,  I  pray — I  must  beg,"  said  Queeker,  "  that 
you  won't  make  this  a  matter  of  even  jocular  inquiry. 
Of  course  I  know  that  no  one  here  would  make 
improper  use  of  any  information  that  I  might  give, 
but  I  have  been  pledged  to  secrecy  by  my  employers." 

"  But,"  continued  Katie  in  the  same  anxious  way 


346  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

as  before,  "  it  will  not  surely  be  a  breach  of  con- 
fidence merely  to  tell  me  if  the  boy  was  a  small, 
active,  good-looking  little  fellow,  with  bright  eyes 
and  curly  hair." 

"  I  am  bound  to  admit,"  said  Queeker,  "  that  your 
description  is  correct." 

To  the  amazement,  not  to  say  consternation,  of 
every  one,  Katie  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
and  burst  into  tears,  exclaiming  in  an  agony  of 
distress  that  she  knew  it ;  she  had  feared  it  after 
sending  him  away ;  that  she  had  ruined  him,  and 
that  it  was  too  late  now  to  do  anything. 

"  No,  not  too  late,  perhaps,"  she  repeated,  suddenly 
raising  her  large  beautiful  eyes,  which  swam  in  tears; 
"  oh  papa,  come  with  me  up-stairs,  I  must  speak 
with  you  alone  at  once." 

She  seized  her  astonished  father  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  unresisting  from  the  room. 

Having  hurriedly  related  all  she  knew  about  Billy 
Towler,  Morley  Jones,  and  Nora,  she  looked  up  in  his 
face  and  demanded  to  know  what  was  to  be  done. 

"  Done,  my  dear  child,"  he  replied,  looking  per- 
plexed, "  we  must  go  at  once  and  see  how  much  can 
be  undone.  You  tell  me  you  have  Nora's  address. 
Well,  we  '11  go  there  at  once. 

"But — but,"  said  Katie,  "Nora  does  not  know 
the  full  extent  of  her  father's  wickedness,  and  we 
want  to  keep  it  from  her  if  possible." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  347 

"  A  very  proper  desire  to  spare  her  pain,  Katie, 
but  in  the  circumstances  we  cannot  help  ourselves ; 
we  must  do  what  we  can  to  frustrate  this  man's 
designs  and  save  the'boy." 

So  saying  Mr.  Durant  descended  to  the  dining- 
room.  He  explained  that  some  suspicious  facts  had 
come  to  his  daughter's  knowledge  which  necessitated 
instant  action ;  said  that  he  was  sorry  Mr.  Queeker 
felt  it  incumbent  on  him  to  maintain  secrecy  in 
regard  to  his  mission,  but  that  he  could  not  think 
of  pressing  him  to  act  in  opposition  to  his  convic- 
tions, and,  dismissing  his  guests  with  many  apolo- 
gies, went  out  with  Katie  in  search  of  the  abode  of 
Nora  Jones. 

Stanley  Hall,  whose  curiosity  was  aroused  by  all 
that  had  passed,  went  down  to  take  a  walk  on  the 
pier  by  way  of  wearing  it  off  in  a  philosophical 
manner.  He  succeeded  easily  in  getting  rid  of  this 
feeling,  but  he  could  not  so  easily  get  rid  of  the 
image  of  Katie  Durant.  He  had  suspected  himself 
in  love  with  her  before  he  sailed  for  India;  his 
suspicions  were  increased  on  his  return  to  England, 
and  when  he  saw  the  burst  of  deep  feeling  to  which 
she  had  so  recently  given  way,  and  heard  the  genuine 
expressions  of  remorse,  and  beheld  her  sweet  face 
bedewed  with  tears  of  regret  and  pity,  suspicion  was 
swallowed  up  in  certainty. 

He  resolved  then  and  there  to  win  her,  if  he  could, 


3  18  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

and  marry  her !  Here  a  touch  of  perplexity  assailed 
him,  but  he  fought  it  off  nobly. 

He  was  young,  no  doubt,  and  had  no  money,  but 
what  then? — he  was  strong,  had  good  abilities,  a 
father  in  a  lucrative  practice,  with  the  prospect  of 
assisting  and  ultimately  succeeding  him.  That  was 
enough,  surely. 

The  lodging  which  he  had  taken  for  a  few  days 
was  retaken  that  night  for  an  indefinite  period, 
and  he  resolved  to  lay  siege  to  her  heart  in  due 
form. 

But  that  uncertainty  which  is  proverbial  in 
human  affairs  stepped  within  the  circle  of  his  life 
and  overturned  his  plans.  On  returning  to  his 
rooms  he  found  a  telegram  on  the  table.  His  father, 
it  informed  him,  was  dangerously  ill  By  the  next 
train  he  started  for  home,  and  arrived  to  find  that 
his  father  was  dead. 

A  true  narrative  of  any  portion  of  this  world's 
doings  must  of  necessity  be  as  varied  as  the  world 
itself,  and  equally  abrupt  in  its  transitions.  From 
the  lively  supper-table  Stanley  Hall  passed  to  the 
deathbed  of  his  father.  In  like  manner  we  must 
ask  the  reader  to  turn  with  us  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  Stanley's  deep  sorrow  to  -the  observation  of 
Queeker's  poetic  despair. 

Maddened  between  the  desire  to  tell  all  he  knew 
regarding  the  secret  mission  to  Mr.  Purant,  and 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          349 
* 

the  command  laid  on  him  by  his  employers  to  be 
silent,  the  miserable  youth  rushed  frantically  to  his 
lodgings,  without  any  definite  intentions,  but  more 
than  half  inclined  to  sink  on  his  knees  before  his 
desk,  and  look  up  to"  the  moon,  or  stars,  or,  failing 
these,,  to  the  floating  light  for  inspiration,  and  pen 
the  direful  dirge  of  something  dreadful  and  desperate ! 
He  had  even  got  the  length  of  the  first  line,  and  had 
burst  like  a  thunderbolt  into  his  room  muttering —  ' 

"Great  blazing  wonder  of  illimitable  spheres," 

when  he  became  suddenly  aware  of  the  fact  that  his 
chair  was  occupied  by  the  conchological  friend  with 
whom  he  had  spent  the  earlier  part  of  that  day,  who 
was  no  other  than  the  man  with  the  keen  grey  eyes. 

"What!  still  in  the  poetic  vein?"  he  said,  with 
a  grave  smile. 

"Why — I — thought  you  were  off  to. London!" 
exclaimed  Queeker,  with  a  very  red  face. 

"  I  have  seen  cause  to  change  my  plan,"  said  Mr. 
Larks  quietly. 

"  I  'm  very  glad  of  it,"  replied  Queeker,  running 
his  fingers  through  his  hair  and  sitting  down  opposite 
his  friend  with  a  deep  sigh,  "  because  I  'm  in  the 
most  horrible  state  of  perplexity.  It  is  quite  evident 
to  rue  that  the  boy  is  known  to  Miss  Durant,  for  she 
went  off  into  such  a  state  when  I  mentioned  him 
and  described  him  exactly." 


350  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Larks;  "  h'm  !  I  know  the  boy 
too." 

"  Do  you  ?    Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  ?" 

"  There  was  no  occasion  to/'  said  the  imperturbable 
Mr.  Larks,  whose  visage  never  by  any  chance  con- 
veyed any  expression  whatever,  except  when  he 
pleased,  and  then  it  conveyed  only  and  exactly  the 
expression  that  he  intended.  "  But  come,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  let 's  hear  all  about  it,  and  don't  quote  any 
poetry  till  you  have  done  with  the  facts." 

Thus  exhorted  Queeker  described  the  scene  at  the 
supper-table  with  faithful  minuteness,  and,  on  con- 
cluding, demanded  what  was  to  be  done. 

"H'm!"  grunted  Mr.  Larks.  "They've  gone  to 
visit  Nora  Jones,  so  you  and  I  shall  go  and  keep 
them  company.  Come  along." 

He  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out,  followed  by  his 
little  friend. 

In  a  lowly  ill-furnished  room  in  one  of  the  poorest 
streets  of  the  town,  where  rats  and  dogs  and  cats 
seemed  to  divide  the  district  with  poverty-stricken 
humaia  beings,  they  found  Nora  sitting  by  the  bed- 
side of  her  grandmother,  who  appeared  to  be  dying. 
A  large  Family  Bible,  from  which  she  had  been  read- 
ing, was  open  on  her  knee. 

Mr.  Larks  had  opened  the  door  and  entered  with- 
out knocking.  He  and  Queeker  stood  in  the  passage 
and  saw  the  bed,  the  invalid,  and  the  watcher 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         351 

through  an  inner  door  which  stood  ajar.  They  could 
hear  the  murmurings  of  the  old  woman's  voice.  She 
appeared  to  wander  iii  her  mind,  for  sometimes  her 
words  were  coherent,  ^at  other  times  she  merely 
babbled*. 

"  0  Morley,  Morley,  give  it  up,"  she  said,  during 
one  of  her  lucid  intervals  ;  "  it  has  been  the  curse 
of  our  family.  Your  grandfather  died  of  it ;  your 
father — ah !  he  was  a  man,  tall  and  straight,  and  so 
kind,  till  he  took  to  it ;  oh  me  !  how  it  changed  him ! 
But  the  Lord  saved  his  soul,  though  he  let  the  body 
fall  to  the  dust.  Blessed  be  His  holy  name  for 
that.  Give  it  up,  Morley,  my  darling  boy ;  give  it 
up,  give  it  up- — oh,  for  God's  sake  give  it  up !" 

She  raised  her  voice  at  each  entreaty  until  it 
almost  reached  a  shriek,  and  then  her  whole  frame 
seemed  to  sink  down  into  the  bed  from  exhaustion. 

"Why  don't  'ee  speak  to  me,  Morley?"  she  re- 
sumed after  a  short  time,  endeavouring  to  turn  her 
head  round. 

"  Dearest  granny,"  said  Xora,  gently  stroking  one 
of  her  withered  hands,  which  lay  on  the  counterpane, 
"  father  is  away  just  now.  No  doubt  he  will  be 
back  ere  long." 

"Ay, .ay,  he's  always  away;  always  away,"  she 
murmured  in  a  querulous  tone ;  "  always  coming 
back  too,  but  he  never  comes.  Oh,  if  he  would  give 
it  up — give  it  up — " 


352  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

She  repeated  this  several  times,  and  gradually 
dwindled  off  into  unintelligible  mutterings. 

By  this  time  Mr.  Larks  had  become  aware  of 
whispering  voices  in  a  part  of  the  room  which  he 
could  not  see.  Pushing  the  door  a  little  farther 
open  he  entered  softly,  and  in  a  darkened  corner  of 
the  apartment  beheld  Mr.  Durant  and  Katie  in 
close  conversation  with  James  Welton.  They  all 
rose,  and  Nora,  seeing  that  the  old  woman  had 
fallen  into  a  slumber,  also  rose  and  advanced  towards 
the  strangers.  Mr.  Durant  at  once  explained  to  her 
who  Queeker  was,  and  Queeker  introduced  Mr. 
Larks  as  a  friend  who  had  come  to  see  them  on 
important  business. 

"  I  think  we  know  pretty  well  what  the  business 
is  about,"  said  Jim  Welton,  advancing  and  address- 
ing himself  to  Mr.  Larks,  "  but  you  see,"  he  added, 
glancing  towards  the  bed,  "  that  this  is  neither  the 
time  nor  place  to  prosecute  your  inquiries,  sir." 

Mr.  Larks,  who  was  by  no  means  an  unfeeling 
man,  though  very  stern,  said  that  he  had  no  inten- 
tion of  intruding ;  he  had  not  been  aware  that  any 
one  was  ill  in  the  house,  and  he  would  take  it  as  a 
favour  if  Mr.  "Welton  would  go  outside  and  allow 
him  the  pleasure  of  a  few  words  with  him.  Of 
course  Jim  agreed,  but  before  going  took  Nora  aside. 

"  I  '11  not  be  back  to  -night,  dearest,"  he  said  in  a 
low  whisper.  "  To-morrow,  early,  I  '11  return." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         353 

"You  will  leave  no  stone  unturned  ?"  said  Nora. 

"  Not  one.     I  '11  do  my  best  to  save  him." 

"And  you  have  told  me  the  worst — told  me  all?" 
asked  Nora,  with  a  look  of  intense  grief  mingled 
with  anxiety  on  her  pale  face. 

"  I  have,"  said  Jim,  in  a  tone  and  with  a  look  so 
earnest  and  truthful  that  Nora  required  no  further 
assurance.  She  gave  him  a  kindly  but  inexpressibly 
sad  smile,  and  returned  to  her  stool  beside  the  bed. 
Her  lover  and  Mr.  Larks  went  out,  followed  by 
Queeker. 

"  We  won't  intrude  on  you  longer  to-night,"  said 
Katie,  going  up  to  Nora  and  laying  her  hand  quietly 
on  her  shoulder. 

"  Your  visit  is  no  intrusion,"  said  Nora,  looking 
up  with  a  quiet  smile.  "  It  was  love  that  brought 
you  here,  I  know.  May  our  dear  Lord  bless  you 
and  your  father  for  wishing  to  comfort  the  heart  of 
one  who  needs  it  so  much — oh,  so  much."  She  put 
her  hands  before  her  face  and  was  silent.  Katie 
tried  in  vain  to  speak.  The  tears  coursed  freely 
down  her  cheeks,  but  never  a  word  could  she  utter. 
She  put  her  arm  round  the  neck  of  the  poor  girl 
and  kissed  her.  This  was  a  language  which  Nora 
understood ; — many  words  could  not  have  expressed 
so  much ;  no  words  could  have  expressed  more. 


354  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTEE   XXII. 

ME.  JONES  18  OUTWITTED,  AND  NORA  IS  LEFT  DESOLATE. 

WHEN  Morley  Jones  found  himself  suddenly  de- 
serted by  his  ally  Billy  Towler,  he  retired  to  the 
privacy  of  a  box  in  a  low  public-house  in  Thames 
Street,  and  there,  under  the  stimulus  of  a  stiff  glass  of 
grog,  consulted  with  himself  as  to  the  best  mode  of 
procedure  under  the  trying  circumstances  in  which 
he  found  himself  placed.  He  thought  it  probable, 
after  half  an  hour  of  severe  meditation,  that  Billy 
would  return  to  the  Grotto,  but  that,  for  his  own 
sake,  he  would  give  a  false  account  of  his  absence, 
and  say  nothing  about  the  loss  of  the  Skylark. 
Feeling  somewhat  relieved  in  mind  by  his  conclu- 
sions on  this  head,  he  drank  off  his  grog,  called  for 
another  glass,  and  then  set  himself  to  the  considera- 
tion of  how  far  the  disappearance  of  the  boy  would 
interfere  with  his  obtaining  payment  of  the  various 
sums  due  by  the  Insurance  Offices.  This  point  was 
either  more  knotty  and  difficult  to  unravel  than  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          355 

previous  one,  or  the  grog  began  to  render  his  intellect 
less  capable  of  grappling  with  it.  At  all  events  it 
cost  him  an  hour  to  determine  his  course  of  action, 
and  required  another'glass  of  grog  to  enable  him  to 
put  the  whole  matter  fairly  before  his  mental  vision 
in  one  comprehensive  view.  This,  however,  accom- 
plished, he  called  for  a  fourth  glass  of  grog  "  for 
luck,"  and  reeled  out  of  the  house  to  carry  out  his 
deep-laid  plans. 

His  first  act  was  to  proceed  to  Greenwich,  where 
a  branch  of  his  fish-curing  business  existed,  or  was 
supposed  to  exist.  Here  he  met  a  friend  who  offered 
to  treat  him.  Unfortunately  for  the  success  of  his 
schemes  he  accepted  this  offer,  and,  in  the  course  of 
a  debauch,  revealed  so  much  of  his  private  affairs 
that  the  friend,  after  seeing  him  safely  to  his  lodging, 
and  bidding  him  an  affectionate  farewell,  went  up 
to  London  by  the  first  boat  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, and  presented  himself  to  the  managers  of  various 
Insurance  Companies,  to  whom  he  made  revelations 
which  were  variously  received  by  these  gentlemen ; 
some  of  them  opening  their  eyes  in  amazement, 
while  others  opened  their  mouths  in  amusement, 
and  gave  him  to  understand  that  he  was  very  much 
in  the  position  of  a  man  who  should  carry  coals  to 
Newcastle — they  being  then  in  possession  of  all  the 
information  given,  and  a  great  deal  more  besides. 

The  manager  of  the  Submarine  Insurance  Com- 


356  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

pany  was  the  most  facetious  among  these  gentlemen 
on  hearing  the  revelations  of  Mr.  Jones's  "  friend." 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  said  that  gentleman,  when 
he  had  pumped  the  "  friend  "  dry,  "  which  of  us  is 
likely  to  receive  the  distinguished  honour  of  the 
first  visit  from  Mr.  Jones  ?" 

"  He  said  summat  about  your  own  office,  sir," 
replied  the  informer ;  "  leastwise  I  think  he  did,  but 
I  ain't  quite  sartin." 

"  H'm  !  not  unlikely,"  observed  the  manager;  "  we 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  paying  him  something 
before  to-day.  Come  here,  I  will  introduce  you  to 
an  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Jones,  who  takes  a  deep  in- 
terest in  him.  He  has  just  arrived  from  Eamsgate." 

Opening  a  door,  the  manager  ushered  the  informer 
into  a  small  room  where  a  stout  man  with  peculiarly 
keen  grey  eyes  was  warming  himself  at  the  fire. 

"  Allow  me  to  introduce  you,  Mr.  Larks,  to  a  friend 
of  Mr.  Jones,  who  may  be  of  some  use.  1  will  leave 
you  together  for  a  little,"  said  the  manager,  with  a 
laugh,  as  he  retired  and  shut  the  door. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  enter  into 
details  as  to  how  Mr.  Jones  went  about  the  business 
of  drawing  his  nets  ashore — so  to  speak, — and  how 
those  who  took  a  special  interest  in  Mr.  Jones 
carefully  assisted  him,  and,  up  to  a  certain  point, 
furthered  all  his  proceedings.  It  is  sufficient  to 
say  that,  about  a  fortnight  after  his  arrival  in  Lon- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          357 

don— all  the  preliminary  steps  having  been  taken — 
he  presented  himself  one  fine  forenoon  at  the  office 
of  the  Submarine  Insurance  Company. 

He  was  received  vefy  graciously,  and,  much  to  his 
satisfaction,  was  told  that  the  claim  could  now  be 
settled  without  further  delay.  Former  experience 
had  taught  him  that  such  a  piece  of  business  was 
not  unusually  difficult  of  settlement,  but  he  was 
quite  charmed  by  the  unwonted  facilities  which 
seemed  to  be  thrown  in  his  way  in  regard  to  the 
present  affair.  He  congratulated  himself  internally, 
and  the  manager  congratulated  him  externally,  so  to 
speak,  by  referring  to  his  good  fortune  in  having 
insured  the  vessel  and  cargo  to  the  full  amount. 

Even  the  clerks  of  the  establishment  appeared  to 
manifest  unwonted  interest  in  the  case,  which  grati- 
fied while  it  somewhat  surprised  Mr.  Jones.  In- 
deed, the  interest  deepened  to  such  an  extent,  and 
was  so  obtrusive,  that  it  became  almost  alarming, 
so  that  feelings  of  considerable  relief  were  experi- 
enced by  the  adventurous  man  when  he  at  length 
received  a  cheque  for  £300  and  left  the  office  with 
it  in  his  pocket. 

In  the  outer  lobby  he  felt  a  touch  on  his  arm,  and, 
looking  round,  met  the  gaze  of  a  gentleman  with 
peculiarly  keen  grey  eyes.  This  gentleman  made 
some  quiet  remarks  with  reference  to  Mr.  Jones 
being  "  wanted,"  and  when  Mr.  Jones,  not  relishing 


358  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  tone  or  looks  of  this  gentleman,  made  a  rush  at 
the  outer  glass  door  of  the  office,  an.  official  stepped 
promptly  in  front  of  it,  put  one  hand  on  the  handle, 
and  held  up  the  other  with  the  air  of  one  who  should 
say,  "  Excuse  me,  there  is  no  thoroughfare  this  way." 
Turning  abruptly  to  the  left,  Mr.  Jones  found  him- 
self confronted  by  another  grave  gentleman  of 
powerful  frame  and  resolute  aspect,  who,  by  a  species 
of  magic  or  sleight  of  hand  known  only  to  the 
initiated,  slipped  a  pair  of  steel  bracelets  on  Mr. 
Jones's  wrists,  and  finally,  almost  before  he  knew 
where  he  was,  Mr.  Jones  found  himself  seated  in  a 
cab  with  the  strong  gentleman  by  his  side,  and  the 
keen  grey-eyed  gentleman  in  front  of  him. 

Soon  afterwards  he  found  himself  standing  alone 
in  the  midst  of  an  apartment,  the  chief  character- 
istics of  which  were,  that  the  furniture  was  scanty, 
the  size  inconveniently  little,  and  the  window  un- 
usually high  up,  besides  being  heavily  barred,  and 
ridiculously  small 

Here  let  us  leave  him  to  his  meditations. 

One  fine  forenoon — many  weeks  after  the  capture 
of  Morley  Jones — Dick  Moy,  Jack  Shales,  and  Jerry 
MacGowl  were  engaged  in  painting  and  repairing 
buoys  in  the  Trinity  store  on  the  pier  at  Eamsgate. 
The  two  former  were  enjoying  their  month  of  ser- 
vice on  shore,  the  latter  was  on  sick-leave,  but  con- 
valescent. Jack  was  painting  squares  of  alternate 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  359 

black  and  white  on  a  buoy  of  a  conical  shape.  Dick 
was  vigorously  scraping  sea- weed  and  barnacles  off 
a  buoy  of  a  round  form.  The  store,  or  big  shed,  was 
full  of  buoys  of  all  -shapes ;  some  new  and  fresh, 
others  old  and  rugged ;  all  of  them  would  have 
appeared  surprisingly  gigantic  to  any  one  accustomed 
to  see  buoys  only  in  their  native  element.  The 
invalid  sat  on  the  shank  of  a  mushroom  anchor,  and 
smoked  his  pipe  while  he  affected  to  superintend 
the  work. 

"  Sure  I  pity  the  poor  craturs  as  is  always  sick. 
The  mouth  o'  man  can  niver  tell  the  blessedness  of 
bein'  well,  as  the  pote  says,"  observed  Jerry,  with  a 
sigh,  as  he  shook  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  and  pro- 
ceeded to  refill  it.  "  Come  now,  Jack  Shales,"  he 
added,  after  a  short  pause,  "  ye  don't  call  that  square, 
do'ee?" 

"  I  '11  paint  yer  nose  black  if  you  don't  shut  up," 
said  Jack,  drawing  the  edge  of  a  black  square  with 
intense  caution,  in  order  to  avoid  invading  the 
domain  of  a  white  one. 

"  Ah !  you  reminds  me  of  the  owld  proverb 
that  says  somethin'  about  asses  gittin  impudent  an' 
becomin'  free  with  their  heels  when  lions  grow  sick." 

"  Well,  Jerry,"  retorted  Jack,  with  a  smile,  as  he 
leaned  back  and  regarded  his  work  with  his  head 
very  much  on  one  side,  and  his  eyes  partially  closed, 
after  the  manner  of  knights  of  the  brush,  "  I  'in  not 


SCO  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

offended,  because  I  'm  just  as  much  of  an  ass  as  you 
are  of  a  lion." 

"  I  say,  mates/'  remarked  Dick  Moy,  pausing  in 
his  work,  and  wiping  his  brow,  "  are  'ee  aweer  that 
the  cap'n  has  ordered  us  to  be  ready  to  start  wi'  the 
first  o'  the  tide  at  half  after  five  to-morrow  ?" 

"  I  knows  it,"  replied  Jack  Shales,  laying  down 
the  black  brush  and  taking  up  the  white  one. 

"  I  knows  it  too,"  said  Jerry  MacGowl,  "  but  it 
don't  make  no  manner  of  odds  to  me,  'cause  I  means 
to  stop  ashore  and  enjoy  meself.  I  mean  to  amoose 
meself  with  the  trial  o'  that  black  thief  Moiiey 
Jones." 

Dick  Moy  resumed  his  work  with  a  grunt,  and 
said  that  Jerry  was  a  lucky  fellow  to  be  so  long  on 
sick-leave,  and  Jack  said  he  wished  he  had  been 
called  up  as  a  witness  in  Jones's  case,  for  he  would 
have  cut  a  better  figure  than  Jim  "VVelton  did. 

"  Ay,  boy,"  said  Dick  Moy,  "  but  there  wos  a 
reason  for  that.  You  know  the  poor  feller  is  in  love 
wi'  Jones's  daughter,  an'  he  didn't  like  for  to  help  to 
convict  his  own  father-in-law  to  be,  d'  ye  see  ?  That 's 
where  it  is.  The  boy  Billy  Towler  was  a'most 
as  bad.  He's  got  a  weakness  for  the  gal  too,  an' 
no  wonder,  for  she 's  bin  as  good  as  a  mother  to  'im. 
They  say  that  Billy  nigh  broke  the  hearts  o'  the 
lawyers,  he  wos  so  stoopid  at  sometimes,  an'  so 
oncommon  'cute  at  others.  But  it  warn't  o'  no  use. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         361 

Jim's  father  was  strong  in  his  evidence  agin  him,  an* 
that  Mr.  Larks,  as  corned  aboard  of  the  Gull,  you 
remember,  he  had  been  watching  an'  ferreting  about 
the  matter  to  that  extent  that  he  turned  Jones's 
former  life  inside  out.  It  seems  he's  bin  up  to 
dodges  o'  that  kind  for  a  long  time  past." 

"  No !  has  he  ?"  said  Jack  Shales. 

"Arrah,  didn't  ye  read  of  it?"  exclaimed  Jerry 
MacGowL 

"  No,"  replied  Jack  drily ;  "  not  bein'  on  the  sick- 
list  I  han't  got  time  to  read  the  papers,  d'  ye  see  ?" 

"  Well,"  resumed  Dick  Moy,  "  it  seems  he  has 
more  than  once  set  fire  to  his  premises  in  Gravesend, 
and  got  the  insurance  money.  Hows'ever,  he  has 
got  fourteen  years'  transportation  now,  an'  that'll 
take  the  shine  pretty  well  out  of  him  before  he 
comes  back." 

"How  did  the  poor  gal  take  it?"  asked  Jack. 

Dick  replied  that  she  was  very  bad  at  first,  but 
that  she  got  somewhat  comforted  by  the  way  her 
father  behaved  to  her  and  listened  to  her  readin'  o' 
the  Bible  after  he  was  condemned.  It  might  be  that 
the  death  of  his  old  mother  had  softened  him  a  bit, 
for  she  died  with  his  name  on  her  lips,  her  last  words 
being,  "  Oh  Morley,  give  it  up,  my  darling  boy,  give 
it  up  ;  it 's  your  only  chance  to  give  it  up,  for  you 
inherit  it,  my  poor  boy ;  the  passion  and  the  poison 
are  in  your  blood;  oh,  give  it  up,  Morley,  give  it  up!" 


362  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  They  do  say,"  continued  Dick,  "  tliat  Jones 
broke  dowii  altogether  w'en  he  heard  that,  an'  fell 
£>n  his  gal's  neck  an'  cried  like  a  babby.  But  for  ray 
part  I  don't  much  believe  in  them  deathbed  repent- 
ances— for  it 's  much  the  same  thing  wi'  Jones  now, 
he  bein'  as  good  as  dead.  It 's  not  wot  a  man  says, 
but  how  a  man  lives,  as  11  weigh  for  or  against  him 
in  the  end." 

"  An'  what  more  did  he  say  ? "  asked  Jerry  Mac- 
Gowl,  stopping  down  the  tobacco  in  his  pipe  with 
one  of  his  fire-proof  fingers ;  "  you  see,  havin'  bin  on 
the  sick-list  so  long,  I  haven't  got  up  all  the  details 
o'  this  business." 

"  He  didn't  say  much  more,"  replied  Dick,  scraping 
away  at  the  sea-weed  and  barnacles  with  renewed 
vigour,  "  only  he  made  his  darter  promise  that  she  'd 
marry  Jim  Welton  as  soon  after  he  was  gone  as 
possible.  She  did  nothing  but  cry,  poor  thing,  and 
wouldn't  hear  of  it  at  first,  but  he  was  so  strong 
about  it,  saying  that  the  thought  of  her  being  so  well 
married  was  the  only  thing  as  would  comfort  him 
w'en  he  was  gone,  that  she  gave  in  at  last." 

"  Sure  then  she  11  have  to  make  up  her  mind," 
said  Jerry,  "  to  live  on  air,  which  is  too  light  food 
intirely  for  any  wan  excep'  hummin'-birds  and 
potes." 

"  She  11  do  better  than  that,  mate,"  returned  Dick, 
"  for  Jim  'as  got  appointed  to  be  assistant-keeper  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          3C3 

a  light'ouse,  through  that  fust-rate  gen'leman  Mr. 
Durant,  who  is  'and  an'  glove,  I'm  told,  wi'  the 
Elder  Brethren  up  at  the  Trinity  'ouse.  It 's  said 
that  they  are  to  be  spliced  in  a  week  or  two,  but, 
owin'  to  the  circumstances,  the  weddin'  is  to  be  kep' 
quite  priwate." 

"  Good  luck  to  'em !"  cried  Jerry.  "  Talkin'  of  the 
Durants,  I  s'pose  ye  Ve  heard  tLat  there 's  goin'  to 
be  a  weddin'  in  that  family  soon  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,  I've  heard  on  it,"  cried  Dick;  "Miss 
Durant — Katie,  they  calls  her — she's  agoin'  to  be 
spliced  to  the  young  doctor  that  was  wrecked  in  the 
Wellington.  A  smart  man  that.  They  say  'ee  has 
stepped  into  'is  father's  shoes,  an'  is  so  much  liked 
that  'ee 's  had  to  git  an  assistant  to  help  him  to  get 
through  the  work  o'  curin'  people — or  killin'  of  'em. 
I  never  feel  rightly  sure  in  my  own  mind  which  it 
is  that  the  doctors  does  for  us." 

"  Och,  don't  ye  know?"  said  Jerry,  removing  his 
pipe  for  a  moment,  "they  keeps  curin'  of  us  as 
long  as  we've  got  any  tin,  an'  when  that's  done 
they  kills  us  off  quietly.  If  it  warn't  for  the  doctors 
we'd  all  live  to  the  age  of  Methoosamel,  excep', 
of  coorse,  w'en  we  was  cut  off  by  accident  or 
drink." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  to  that,"  said  Jack  Shales, 
in  a  hearty  manner ;  "  but  I  'm  right  glad  to  hear 
that  Miss  Durant  is  gettin'  a  good  husband,  for 


364  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

she 's  the  sweetest  gal  in  England,  I  think,  always 
exceptin'  one  whom  I  don't  mean  for  to  name  just 
now.  Hasn't  she  been  a  perfect  angel  to  the  poor 
—especially  to  poor  old  men — since  she  come  to 
Eamsgate?  and  didn't  she,  before  goin'  back  to 
Yarmouth,  where  she  blongs  to,  make  a  beautiful 
paintin'  o'  the  lifeboat,  and  present  it  in  a  gold 
frame,  with  tears  m  her  sweet  eyes,  to  the  coxswain 
o'  the  boat,  an'  took  his  big  fist  in  her  two  soft  little 
hands,  an'  shook  an'  squeezed  it,  an'  begged  him  to 
keep  the  pictur'  as  a  very  slight  mark  of  the  grati- 
tude an'  esteem  of  Dr.  Hall  an'  herself — that  was 
after  they  was  engaged,  you  know  ?  Ah !  there  ain't 
many  gals  like  her"  said  Jack,  with  a  sigh,  "  always 
exceptin'  one." 

"  Humph  ! "  said  Dick  Moy,  "  I  wouldn't  give  my 
old  'ooman  for  six  dozen  of  'er." 

"  Just  so,"  observed  Jerry,  with  a  grin,  "  an'  I  Ve 
no  manner  of  doubt  that  Dr.  Hall  wouldn't  give  her 
for  sixty  dozen  o'  your  old  'ooman.  It 's  human 
natur',  lad, — that 's  where  it  is,  mates.  But  what 
has  come  o'  Billy  Towler  ?  Has  he  gone  back  to  the 
what  's-'is-name — the  Cavern,  eh  ? " 

"  The  Grotto,  you  mean,"  said  Jack  Shales. 

"  Well,  the  Grotto— 'tan't  much  differ." 

"  He 's  gone  back  for  a  time,"  said  Dick ;  "  but 
Mr.  Durant  has  prowided  for  him  too.  He  has  given 
Lim  a  berth  aboord  one  of  his  East-Indiamen  ;  so  if 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SAITOS.  365 

Billy  behaves  hisself  his  fortin  's  as  good  as  made. 
Leastwise  he  has  got  his  futt  on  the  first  round,  an' 
the  ladder  's  all  clear  before  him." 

"  By  the  way,  what 's  that  I  Ve  heard,"  said  Jack 
Shales,  "  about  Mr.  Durant  findin'  out  that  he  'd 
know'd  Billy  Towler  some  years  ago  ?" 

"  I  don't  rightly  know,"  replied  Dick.  "  I  Ve  'eerd 
it  said  that  the  old  gentleman  recognised  him  as  a 
beggar  boy  'e  'd  tuck  a  fancy  to  an'  putt  to  school 
long  ago ;  but  Billy  didn't  like  the  school,  it  seems, 
an'  runn'd  away — w'ich  I  don't  regard  as  wery  sur- 
prisin' — an'  Mr.  Durant  could  never  find  out  where 
'e  'd  run  to.  That 's  how  I  'eerd  the  story,  but  wot 's 
true  of  it  I  dun  know." 

"  There  goes  the  dinner-bell ! "  exclaimed  Jack 
Shales,  rising  with  alacrity  on  hearing  a  neighbour- 
ing clock  strike  noon. 

Jerry  rose  with  a  sigh,  and  remarked,  as  he  shook 
the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and  put  it  into  his  waist- 
coat pocket,  that  his  appetite  had  quite  left  him ; 
that  he  didn't  believe  he  was  fit  for  more  than  two 
chickens  at  one  meal,  whereas  he  had  seen  the  day 
when  he  would  have  thought  nothing  of  a  whole  leg 
of  mutton  to  his  own  cheek. 

"  Ah,"  remarked  Dick  Moy,  "  Irish  mutton,  I 
s'pose.  "Well,  I  don't  know  'ow  you  feels,  but  I 
feels  so  hungry  that  I  could  snap  at  a  ring-bolt;  and 
I  know  of  a  lot  o'  child'n,  big  arf  small,  as  won't 


366  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

look  sweet  on  their  daddy  if  he  keeps  'em  waitin' 
for  dinner,  so  come  along,  mates." 

Saying  this,  Dick  and  his  friends  left  the  buoy- 
store,  and  walked  smartly  off  to  their  several  places 
of  abode  in  the  town. 

In  a  darkened  apartment  of  that  same  town  sat 
Nora  Jones,  the  very  personification  of  despair,  on 
a  low  stool,  with  her  head  resting  on  the  side  of  a 
poor  bed.  She  was  alone,  and  perfectly  silent ;  for 
some  sorrows,  like  some  thoughts,  are  too  deep  for 
utterance.  Everything  around  her  suggested  abso- 
lute desolation.  The  bed  was  that  in  which  not 
long  ago  she  had  been  wont  to  smooth  the  pillow 
and  soothe  the  heart  of  her  old  grandmother.  It 
was  empty  now.  The  fire  in  the  rusty  grate  had 
been  allowed  to  die  out,  and  its  cold  grey  ashes 
strewed  the  hearth.  Among  them  lay  the  fragments 
of  a  black  bottle.  It  would  be  difficult  to  say  what 
it  was  in  the  peculiar  aspect  of  these  fragments  that 
rendered  them  so  suggestive,  but  there  was  that 
about  them  which  conveyed  irresistibly  the  idea 
that  the  bottle  had  been  dashed  down  there  with 
the  vehemence  of  uncontrollable  passion.  The  little 
table  which  used  to  stand  at  the  patient's  bedside 
was  covered  with  a  few  crumbs  and  fragments  of 
a  meal  that  must,  to  judge  from  their  state  and 
appearance,  have  been  eaten  a  considerable  time 
ago ;  and  the  confusion  of  the  furniture,  as  well  as 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          367 

the  dust  that  covered  everything,  was  strangely  out 
of  keeping  with  the  character  of  the  poor  girl,  who 
reclined  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  so  pale  and  still 
that,  but  for  the  slight  twitching  movement  of  her 
clasped  hands,  one  might  have  supposed  she  had 
already  passed  from  the  scene  of  her  woe.  Even 
the  old-fashioned  timepiece  that  hung  upon  a  nail 
in  the  wall  seemed  to  be  smitten  with  the  pervading 
spell,  for  its  pendulum  was  motionless,  and  its  feeble 
pulse  had  ceased  to  tick. 

A  soft  tap  at  the  door  broke  the  deathlike  silence. 
Nora  looked  up  but  did  not  answer,  as  it  slowly 
opened,  and  a  man  entered.  On  seeing  who  it 
was,  she  uttered  a  low  wail,  and  buried  her  face 
in  the  bed-clothes.  "Without  speaking,  or  moving 
from  her  position,  she  held  out  her  hand  to  Jim 
Welton,  who  advanced  with  a  quick  but  quiet  step, 
and,  going  down  on  his  knees  beside  her,  took  the 
little  hand  in  both  of  his.  The  attitude  and  the 
silence  were  suggestive.  Without  having  intended 
it  the  young  sailor  began  to  pray,  and  in  a  few  short 
broken  sentences  poured  out  his  soul  before  God. 

A  flood  of  tears  came  to  Nora's  relief.  After  a 
few  minutes  she  looked  up. 

"  Oh !  thank  you,  thank  you,  Jim.  I  believe 
that  in  the  selfishness  of  my  grief  I  had  forgotten 
God ;  but  oh  !  I  feel  as  if  my  heart  was  crushed 
beyond  the  power  of  recovery.  She  is  gone"  (glancing 


368  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

at  the  empty  bed),  "  and  he  is  gone — gone  for 
ever" 

Jim  wished  to  comfort  her,  and  tried  to  speak, 
but  his  voice  was  choked.  He  could  only  draw  her 
to  him,  and  laying  her  head  on  his  breast,  smooth 
her  fair  soft  hair  with  his  hard  but  gentle  hand. 

"  Not  gone  for  ever,  dearest,"  he  said  at  length  with 
a  great  effort.  "  It  is  indeed  a  long  long  time,  but — 

He  could  not  go  further,  for  it  seemed  to  him  like 
mockery  to  suggest  by  way  of  comfort  that  fourteen 
years  would  come  to  an  end. 

For  some  minutes  the  silence  was  broken  only 
by  an  occasional  sob  from  poor  Nora. 

" Oh !  he  was  so  different  once"  she  said,  raising 
herself  and  looking  at  her  lover  with  tearful,  earnest 
eyes ;  "  you  have  seen  him  at  his  worst,  Jim.  There 
was  a  time,  before  he  took  to — " 

She  stopped  abruptly,  as  if  unable  to  find  words, 
and  pointed,  with  a  fierce  expression,  that  seemed 
strange  and  awful  on  her  gentle  face,  to  the  frag- 
ments of  the  broken  bottle  on  the  hearth.  Jim 
nodded.  She  saw  that  he  understood,  and  went  on 
in  her  own  calm  voice  : — 

"  There  was  a  time  when  he  was  kind  and  gentle 
and  loving ;  when  he  had  no  drunken  companions, 
and  no  mysterious  goings  to  sea ;  when  he  was  the 
joy  as  well  as  the  support  of  his  mother,  and  so  fond 
of  me — but  he  was  always  that ;  even  after  he  had — " 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          369 

Again  Nora  paused,  and,  drooping  her  head, 
altered  the  low  wail  of  desolation  that  went  like 
cold  steel  to  the  young  sailor's  heart. 

"  Nora,"  he  said  earnestly,  "  he  will  get  no  drink 
where  he  is  going.  At  all  events  he  will  be  cured 
of  that  before  he  returns  home." 

"  Oh,  I  bless  the  Lord  for  that,"  said  Nora,  with 
fervour.  "  I  have  thought  of  that  before  now,  and 
I  have  thought,  too,  that  there  are  men  of  God 
where  he  is  going,  who  think  of,  and  pray  for,  and 
strive  to  recover,  the  souls  of  those  who — that  is — ; 
but  oh,  Jim,  Jim,  it  is  a  long,  long,  weary  time.  I 
feel  that  I  shall  never  see  my  father  more  in  this 
world — never,  never  more  !" 

"  We  cannot  tell,  Nora,"  said  Jim,  with  a  desperate 
effort  to  appear  hopefuL  "I  know  well  enough 
that  it  may  seem  foolish  to  try  to  comfort  you  with 
the  hope  of  seein'  him  again  in  this  life ;  and  yet 
even  this  may  come  to  pass.  He  may  escape,  or  he 
may  be  forgiven,  and  let  off  before  the  end  of  his 
time.  But  come,  cheer  up,  my  darling.  You  re- 
member what  his  last  request  was  ?" 

"  How  can  you  talk  of  such  a  thing  at  such  a 
time?"  exclaimed  Nora,  drawing  away  from  him 
and  rising. 

"  Be  not  angry,  Nora,"  said  Jim,  also  rising.  "  I 
did  but  remind  you  of  it  for  the  purpose  of  sayin' 
that  as  you  agreed  to  what  he  wished,  you  have 

2  A 


370  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

given  me  a  sort  of  right  or  privilege,  dear  Nora,  at 
least  to  help  and  look  after  you  in  your  distress. 
Your  own  unselfish  heart  has  never  thought  of  tell- 
ing me  that  you  have  neither  money  nor  home ; 
this  poor  place  being  yours  only  till  term- day,  which 
is  to-morrow ;  but  I  know  all  this  without  requiring 
to  be  told,  and  I  have  come  to  say  that  there  is  an 
old  woman — a  sort  of  relation  of  mine— who  lives 
in  this  town,  and  will  give  you  board  and  lodging 
gladly  till  I  can  get  arrangements  made  at  the 
lighthouse  for  our — that  is  to  say — till  you  choose, 
in  your  own  good  time,  to  let  me  be  your  rightful 
protector  and  supporter,  as  well  as  your  comforter." 

"  Thank  you,  Jim.  It  is  like  yourself  to  be  so 
thoughtful.  Forgive  me  ;  I  judged  you  hastily.  It 
is  true  I  am  poor — I  have  nothing  in  the  world, 
but,  thanks  be  to  God,  I  have  health.  I  can  work ; 
and  there  are  some  kind  friends,"  she  added,  with  a 
sad  smile,  "who  will  throw  work  in  my  way,  I 
know." 

"Well,  we  will  talk  about  these  things  after- 
wards, Nora,  but  you  won't  refuse  to  take  advantage 
of  my  old  friend's  offer — at  least  for  a  night  or  two?" 

"  No,  I  won't  refuse  that,  Jim  ;  see,  I  am  prepared 
to  go,"  she  said,  pointing  to  a  wooden  sea-chest 
which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room;  "my  box  is 
packed.  Everything  I  own  is  in  it.  The  furniture, 
clock,  and  bedding  belong  to  the  landlord." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          371 

"  Coine  then,  my  own  poor  lamb,"  said  the  young 
sailor  tenderly,  "  let  us  go." 

Nora  rose  and  glanced  slowly  round  the  room. 
Tew  rooms  in  Ramsgate  could  have  looked  more 
poverty-stricken  and  cheerless,  nevertheless,  being 
associated  in  her  mind  with  those  whom  she  had 
lost,  she  was  loath  to  leave  it.  Falling  suddenly  on 
her  knees  beside  the  bed,  she  kissed  the  old  counter- 
pane that  had  covered  the  dead  form  she  had  loved 
so  well,  and  then  went  hastily  out  and  leaned  her 
head  against  the  wall  of  the  narrow  court  before  the 
door. 

Jim  lifted  the  chest,  placed  it  on  his  broad 
shoulders  and  followed  her.  Locking  the  door 
behind  him  and  putting  the  key  in  his  pocket,  he 
gave  his  disengaged  arm  to  Nora,  and  led  her  slowly 
away. 


372  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

TELLS  OF  AN  UNLOOKED-FOR  RETURN,  AND  DESCRIBES  A  GREAT  FEAST. 

IF,  as  we  have  elsewhere  observed  in  this  narra- 
tive, time  and  tide  wait  for  no  man,  it  is  not  less 
true  that  time  and  tide  work  wonderful  changes  in 
man  and  his  affairs  and  fortunes.  Some  of  those 
changes  we  will  now  glance  at,  premising  that  seven 
years  have  passed  away  since  the  occurrence  of  the 
events  recorded  in  our  last  chapter. 

On  the  evening  of  a  somewhat  gloomy  day  in  the 
month  of  sunny  showers,  four  men  of  rough  aspect, 
and  clad  in  coarse  but  not  disreputable  garments, 
stopped  in  front  of  a  public-house  in  one  of  the 
lowest  localities  of  London,  and  looked  about  them. 
There  was  something  quite  peculiar  in  their  aspect. 
They  seemed'to  be  filled  with  mingled  curiosity  and 
surprise,  and  looked  somewhat  scared,  as  a  bird  does 
when  suddenly  set  free  from  its  cage. 

Two  of  the  men  were  of  an  extremely  low  type 
of  humanity — low-browed  and  scowling — and  their 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         373 

language  betokened  that  their  minds  were  in  keep- 
ing with  their  faces.  The  other  two  were  better- 
looking  and  better-spoken,  one  of  them  having  evi- 
dently been  a  handsome  man  in  his  day.  His  hair 
was  blanched  as  white  as  snow  although  it  still 
retained  the  curls  of  youth.  His  figure  was  much 
bent,  and  he  appeared  like  one  who  had  been  smitten 
with  premature  old  age. 

"Well,  uncommon  queer  changes  bin  goin*  on 
here,"  said  one  of  the  men,  gazing  round  him. 

One  of  the  others  admitted  that  there  certainly 
had  been  wonderful  changes,  and  expressed  a  fear 
that  if  the  change  in  himself  was  as  great,  his  old 
pals  wouldn't  know  him. 

"  Hows'ever,"  observed  he  who  had  spoken  first, 
"they  won't  see  such  a  difference  as  they  would 
have  seen  if  we'd  got  the  whole  fourteen.  Good 
luck  to  the  ticket-of-leave  system,  say  I." 

The  others  laughed  at  this,  and  one  of  them  sug- 
gested that  they  should  enter  the  public-house  and 
have  a  glass  of  grog  in  memory  of  old  times.  Three 
of  the  men  at  once  agreed  to  this  proposal,  and  said 
that  as  it  would  not  be  long  before  they  were  in  the 
stone  jug  again  it  behoved  them  to  make  the  most 
of  their  freedom  while  it  lasted.  The  man  with 
white  hair,  however,  objected,  and  it  was  not  until 
his  companions  had  chaffed  and  rallied  him  a  good 
deal  that  he  consented  to  enter  the  house,  observing, 


374  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

as  he  followed  them  slowly,  that  he  had  not  tasted 
a  drop  for  seven  years. 

"  Well,  well,"  replied  one  of  the  others,  "  it  don't 
matter ;  you  11  relish  it  all  the  more  now,  old  feller. 
It  11  go  down  like  oil,  an'  call  up  the  memory  of  old 
times — " 

"  The  memory  of  old  times !"  cried  the  white- 
haired  man,  stopping  short,  with  a  sudden  blaze  of 
ferocity  which  amazed  his  companions. 

He  stood  glaring  at  them  for  a  few  moments, 
with  his  hands  tightly  clenched ;  then,  without 
uttering  another  word,  he  turned  round  and  rushed 
from  the  house. 

"  Mad !"  exclaimed  one  of  the  other  three,  looking 
at  his  companions  when  they  had  recovered  from 
their  surprise,  "  mad  as  a  March  hare.  Hows'ever, 
that  don't  consarn  us.  Corne  along,  my  hearties. — 
Hallo !  landlord,  fetch  drink  here — your  best,  and 
plenty  of  it.  Now,  boys,  fill  up  and  I  '11  give  'ee  a 
toast." 

Saying  this  the  man  filled  his  glass,  the  others 
followed  his  example — the  toast  was  given  and 
drunk — more  toasts  were  given  and  drunk — the  three 
men  returned  to  their  drink  and  their  old  ways,  and 
haunts  and  comrades,  as  the  sow  returns  te  her 
wallowing  in  the  mire. 

Meanwhile  the  white-haired  man  wandered  away 
as  if  he  had  no  settled  purpose.  Day  after  day  he 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          375 

moved  on  through  towns  and  villages  and  fields, 
offering  to  work,  but  seldom  being  employed,  beg- 
ging his  bread  from  door  to  door,  but  carefully 
avoiding  the  taverns ;  sleeping  where  he  could,  or 
where  he  was  permitted — sometimes  in  the  barn  of 
a  kindly  farmer,  sometimes  under  a  hay-stack,  not 
unfrequently  under  a  hedge — until  at  last  he  found 
himself  in  the  town  of  Eamsgate. 

Here  he  made  inquiries  of  various  people,  and 
immediately  set  forth  again  on  his  travels  through 
the  land  until  he  reached  a  remote  part  of  the  coast 
of  England,  where  he  found  his  further  progress 
checked  by  the  sea,  but,  by  dint  of  begging  a  free 
passage  from  fishermen  here  and  there,  he  managed 
at  last  to  reach  one  of  our  outlying  reefs,  where,  on 
a  small  islet,  a  magnificent  lighthouse  reared  its  white 
and  stately  column,  and  looked  abroad  upon  the 
ocean,  with  its  glowing  eye.  There  was  a  small 
village  on  the  islet,  in  which  dwelt  a  few  families 
of  fishermen.  They  were  a  hard-working  com- 
munity, and  appeared  to  be  contented  and  happy. 

The  lighthouse  occupied  an  elevated  plateau  above 
the  cliffs  at  the  sea-ward  extremity  of  the  isle,  about 
quarter  of  a  mile  distant  from  the  fishing  village. 
Thither  the  old  man  wended  his  way.  The  tower, 
rising  high  above  shrubs  and  intervening  rocks,  ren- 
dered a  guide  unnecessary.  It  was  a  calm  evening. 
The  path,  which  was  narrow  and  rugged,  wound  its 


376  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

serpentine  course  amid  grey  rocks,  luxuriant  brambles, 
grasses,  and  flowering  shrubs.  There  were  no  trees. 
The  want  of  shelter  on  that  exposed  spot  rendered 
their  growth  impossible.  The  few  that  had  been 
planted  had  been  cut  down  by  the  nor'-west  wind 
as  with  a  scythe. 

As  he  drew  near  to  the  lighthouse,  the  old  man 
observed  a  woman  sitting  on  a  stool  in  front  of  the 
door,  busily  engaged  with  her  needle,  while  three 
children — two  girls  and  a  boy — were  romping  on 
the  grass  plat  beside  her.  The  boy  was  just  old 
enough  to  walk  with  the  steadiness  of  an  exceed- 
ingly drunk  man,  and  betrayed  a  wonderful  tendency 
to  sit  down  suddenly  and  gaze — astonished  !  The 
girls,  apparently  though  not  really  twins,  were  just 
wild  enough  to  enjoy  their  brother's  tumbles,  and 
helped  him  to  accomplish  more  of  them  than  would 
have  resulted  from  his  own  incapacity  to  walk. 

A  magnificent  black  Newfoundland  dog,  with 
grey  paws  and  a  benignant  countenance,  couched 
beside  the  woman  and  watched  the  children  at  play. 
He  frequently  betrayed  a  desire  to  join  them  in 
their  gambols,  but  either  laziness  or  a  sense  of  his 
own  dignity  induced  him  to  sit  still. 

"  Nora,"  called  the  mother,  who  was  a  young  and 
exceedingly  beautiful  mother,  "  Nora,  come  here ; 
go  tell  your  father  that  I  see  a  stranger  coming  up 
the  path.  Quick,  darling." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          377 

Little  Nora  bounded  away  like  a  small  faiiy,  with 
her  fair  curls  streaming  in  the  wind  which  her  own 
speed  created. 

"  Katie,"  said  the  mother,  turning  to  her  second 
daughter,  "  don't  rumple  him  tip  quite  so  violently. 
You  must  remember  that  he  is  a  tiny  fellow  yet, 
and  can't  stand  such  rough  treatment." 

"  But  he  likes  it,  ma,"  objected  ]£atie,  with  a  look 
of  glee,  although  she  obeyed  the  order  at  once. 
"  Don't  you,  Morley  ?" 

Little  Morley  stopped  in  the  middle  of  an  ecstatic 
laugh,  scrambled  upon  his  fat  legs  and  staggered 
towards  his  mother,  with  his  fists  doubled,  as  if  to 
take  summary  vengeance  on  her  for  having  stopped 
the  fun. 

"  Oh,  baby  boy ;  my  little  Morley,  what  a  wild 
fellow  you  are  !"  cried  the  mother,  catching  up  her 
child  and  tossing  him  in  the  air. 

The  old  man  had  approached  near  enough  to 
overhear  the  words  and  recognise  the  face.  Tears 
sprang  to  his  eyes  and  ran  down  his  cheeks,  as  he 
fell  forward  on  the  path  with  his  face  in  the  dust. 

At  the  same  moment  the  lighthouse-keeper  issued 
from  the  door  of  the  building.  Running  towards 
the  old  man,  he  and  his  wife  quickly  raised  him 
and  loosened  his  neckcloth.  His  face  had  been 
slightly  cut  by  the  fall.  Blood  and  dust  besmeared 
it  and  soiled  his  white  locks. 


378  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  Poor  old  man !"  said  the  keeper,  as  his  mate, 
the  assistant  light-keeper,  joined  him.  "  Lend  a 
hand,  Billy,  to  carry  him  in.  He  ain't  very  heavy." 

The  assistant — a  strapping  young  fellow,  with 
a  powerful,  well-made  frame,  sparkling  eyes  and  a 
handsome  face,  on  which  at  that  moment  there  was 
a  look  of  intense  pity — assisted  his  comrade  to 
raise  the  old  man.  They  carried  him  with  tender 
care  into  the  lighthouse  and  laid  him  on  a  couch 
which  at  that  time,  owing  to  lack  of  room  in  the 
building,  happened  to  be  little  Nora's  bed. 

For  a  few  moments  he  lay  apparently  in  a  state 
of  insensibility,  while  the  mother  of  the  family 
brought  a  basin  of  water  and  began  carefully  to  re- 
move the  blood  and  dust  which  rendered  his  face 
unrecognisable.  The  first  touch  of  the  cold  sponge 
caused  him  to  open  his  eyes  and  gaze  earnestly  in 
the  woman's  face — so  earnestly  that  she  was  con- 
strained to  pause  and  return  the  gaze  inquiringly. 

"  You  seem  to  know  me,"  she  said. 

The  old  man  made  no  reply,  but,  slowly  clasping 
his  hands  and  closing  his  eyes,  exclaimed  "  Thank 
God ! "  fervently. 

***** 

Let  us  glance,  now,  at  a  few  more  of  the  changes 
which  had  been  wrought  in  the  condition  and  cir- 
cumstances of  several  of  the  actors  in  this  tale  by 
the  wonder-working  hand  of  time. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          379 

On  another  evening  of  another  month  in  this  same 
year,  Mr.  Eobert  Queeker — having  just  completed  an 
ode  to  a  star  which  had  been  recently  discovered  by 
the  Astronomer-Eoyal — walked  from  the  door  of 
the  Fortress  Hotel,  Eamsgate,  and,  wending  his  way 
leisurely  along  Harbour  Street,  directed  his  steps 
towards  St.  James's  HalL 

Seven  years  had  wrought  a  great  change  for  the 
better  in  Mr.  Eobert  Queeker.  His  once  smooth 
face  was  decorated  with  a  superb  pair  of  light-brown 
whiskers  of  the  stamp  now  styled  Dundreary.  His 
clothes  fitted  him  well,  and  displayed  to  advantage 
a  figure  which,  although  short,  was  well  made  and 
athletic.  It  was  evident  that  time  had  not  caused 
his  shadow  to  grow  less.  There  was  a  jaunty,  con- 
fident air  about  him,  too,  which  might  have  been 
thought  quite  in  keeping  with  a  red  coat  and  top- 
boots  by  his  friends  in  Jenkinsjoy,  and  would  have 
induced  hospitable  Mr.  Stoutheart  to  let  him  once 
more  try  his  fortune  on  the  back  of  Slapover  with- 
out much  anxiety  as  to  the  result ;  ay,  even  although 
the  sweet  but  reckless  Amy  were  to  be  his  leader  in 
the  field !  Nevertheless  there  was  nothing  of  the 
coxcomb  about  Queeker — no  self-assertion;  nothing 
but  amiableness,  self-satisfaction,  and  enthusiasm. 

Queeker  smiled  and  hummed  a  tune  to  himself 
as  he  walked  along  drawing  on  his  gloves,  which 
were  lavender  kid  and  exceedingly  tight. 


380  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  It  will  be  a  great  night,"  he  murmured ;  "  a 
grand,  a  glorious  night." 

As  there  was  nothing  peculiarly  grand  in  the 
aspect  of  the  weather,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  he 
referred  to  something  else,  but  he  said  nothing  more 
at  the  time,  although  he  smiled  a  good  deal  and 
hummed  a  good  many  snatches  of  popular  airs  as 
he  walked  along,  still  struggling  with  the  refractory 
fingers  of  the  lavender  kid  gloves. 

Arrived  at  St.  James's  Hall,  he  took  up  a  position 
outside  the  door,  and  remained  there  as  if  waiting 
for  some  one. 

It  was  evident  that  Mr.  Queeker's  brief  remark 
had  reference  to  the  proceedings  that  were  going  on 
at  the  hall,  because  everything  in  and  around  it,  on 
that  occasion,  gave  unquestionable  evidence  that 
there  was  to  be  a  "  great  night "  there.  The  lobby 
blazed  with  light,  and  resounded  with  voices  and 
bustle,  as  people  streamed  in  continuously.  The  in- 
terior of  the  hall  itself  glowed  like  a  red-hot  chamber 
of  gold,  and  was  tastefully  decorated  with  flowers 
and  flags  and  evergreens ;  while  the  floor  of  the 
room  was  covered  with  long  tables,  which  groaned 
under  the  glittering  accessories  of  an  approaching 
feast.  Fair  ladies  were  among  the  assembling  com- 
pany, and  busy  gentlemen,  who  acted  the  part  of 
stewards,  hurried  to  and  fro,  giving  directions  and 
keeping  order.  A  large  portion  of  the  company  con- 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.         381 

sisted  of  men  whose  hard  hands,  powerful  frames, 
and  bronzed  faces,  proclaimed  them  the  sons  of 
toil,  and  whose  manly  tones  and  holiday  garments 
smacked  of  gales  and  salt  water. 

"What  be  goin'  on  here,  measter?"  inquired 'a 
country  fellow,  nudging  Mr.  Queeker  with  his  elbow. 

Queeker  looked  at  his  questioner  in  surprise,  and 
told  him  that  it  was  a  supper  which  was  about  to 
be  given  to  the  lifeboat  -men  by  the  people  of  the 
town. 

"  An'  who  be  the  lifeboat-men,  measter  ?" 

"'Shades  of  the  mighty  dead;'  not  to  mention 
the  glorious  living!"  exclaimed  Queeker,  aghast; 
"  have  you  never  heard  of  the  noble  fellows  who 
man  the  lifeboats  all  round  the  coasts  of  this  great 
country,  and  save  hundreds  of  lives  every  year? 
Have  you  not  read  of  their  daring  exploits  in  the 
newspapers  ?  Have  you  never  heard  of  the  famous 
Eamsgate  lifeboat  ?" 

"  Well,  now  'ee  mention  it,  I  doos  remember  sum- 
mat  about  loifboats,"  replied  the  country  fellow, 
after  pondering  a  moment  or  two ;  "  but,  bless  'ee, 
I  never  read  nothin'  about  'em,  not  bein'  able  to 
read ;  an'  as  I  've  lived  all  my  loif  fur  inland,  an' 
on'y  corned  here  to-day,  it  ain't  to  be  thow't  as  I 
knows  much  about  yer  Eamsgate  loifboats.  Be 
there  mony  loif  boat  men  in  Eamsgate,  measter?" 

"  My  good  fellow,"  said  Quee-ker,  taking  the  man 


382  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

by  the  sleeve,  and  gazing  at  him  with  a  look  of 
earnest  pity,  "there  are  dozens  of  'em.  Splendid 
fellows,  who  have  saved  hundreds  of  men,  women, 
and  children  from  the  raging  deep ;  and  they  are  all 
to  be  assembled  in  this  hall  to-night,  to  the  number 
of  nearly  a  hundred — for  there  are  to  be  present  not 
only  the  men  who  now  constitute  the  crew  of  the 
Eamsgate  boat,  but  all  the  men  who  have  formed 
part  of  her  crew  in  time  past.  Every  man  among 
them  is  a  hero,"  continued  Queeker,  warming  as  he 
went  on,  and  shaking  the  country  fellow's  arm  in  his 
earnestness,  "  and  every  man  to-night  will —  " 

He  stopped  short  abruptly,  for  at  that  moment  a 
carriage  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  a  gentleman 
jumping  out  assisted  a  lady  to  alight. 

Without  a  word  of  explanation  to  the  astonished 
country  fellow,  Queeker  thrust  him  aside,  dashed 
forward,  presented  himself  before  the  lady,  and, 
holding  out  his  hand,  exclaimed — 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Hennings  ?  I  'm  so  glad 
to  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  meet  you." 

"  Mr.  Quee — Queeker,"  exclaimed  Fanny,  blush- 
ing scarlet ;  "  I — I  was  not  aware — so  very  unex- 
pected— I  thought — dear  me ! — but,  pardon  me — 
allow  me  to  introduce  my  uncle,  Mr.  Hennings. 
Mr.  Queeker,  uncle,  whom  you  have  often  heard 
mamma  speak  about." 

Mr.  Henniugs,  a  six-feet-two   man,   stooped  to 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  383 

shake  Queeker  by  the  hand.  An  impatient  cabman 
shouted  "  Move  on."  Fanny  seized  her  uncle's  arm, 
and  was  led  away.  Queeker  followed  close,  and  all 
three  were  wedged  together  in  the  crowd,  and  swept 
towards  the  banquet-hall. 

"  Are  you  one  of  the  stewards?"  asked  Fanny,  dur- 
ing a  momentary  pause. 

How  exquisite  she  looks  !  thought  Queeker,  as  she 
glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  him.  He  felt  inclined 
to  call  her  an  angel,  or  something  of  that  sort,  but 
restrained  himself,  and  replied  that  he  was  not  a 
steward,  but  a  guest — an  honoured  guest — and  that 
he  would  have  no  objection  to  be  a  dishonoured 
guest,  if  only,  by  being  expelle^  from  the  festive 
board,  he  could  manage  to  find  an  excuse  to  sit 
beside  her  in  the  ladies'  gallery. 

"  But  that  may  not  be,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh.  "  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  see  you  from  my  allotted  posi- 
tion. Alas  !  we  separate  here — though — though — 
lost  to  sight,  to  memory  dear !" 

The  latter  part  of  this  remark  was  said  hurriedly 
and  in  desperation,  in  consequence  of  a  sudden  rush 
of  the  crowd,  rendering  abrupt  separation  unavoid- 
able. But,  although  parted  from  his  lady-love,  and 
unable  to  gaze  upon  her,  Queeker  kept  her  steadily 
in  his  mind's  eye  all  that  evening,  made  all  his 
speeches  to  her,  sang  all  his  songs  to  her,  and  finally 
— but  hold  !  we  must  not  anticipate. 


384  THE  FLOATING   LIGHT 

As  we  have  said — or,  rather,  as  we  have  recorded 
that  Queeker  said — all  the  lifeboat  men  of  the  town 
of  Eamsgate  sat  down  to  that  supper,  to  the  number 
of  nearly  one  hundred  men.  All  sturdy  men  of 
tried  courage.  Some  were  old,  with  none  of  the 
fire  that  had  nerved  them  to  rescue  lives  in  days 
gone  by,  save  that  which  still  gleamed  in  their  eyes  ; 
some  were  young,  with  the  glow  of  irrepressible 
enthusiasm  on  their  smooth  faces,  and  the  intense 
wish  to  have  a  chance  to  dare  and  do  swelling  their 
bold  hearts ;  others  were  middle-aged,  iron-moulded; 
as  able  and  as  bold  to  the  full  as  the  younger  men, 
with  the  coolness  and  self-restraint  of  the  old  ones ; 
but  all,  old,  middle-aged,  and  young,  looking  proud 
and  pleased,  and  so  gentle  in  their  demeanour  (owing, 
no  doubt,  to  the  presence  of  the  fair  sex),  that  it 
seemed  as  if  a  small  breeze  of  wind  would  have 
made  them  all  turn  tail  and  run  away, — especially 
if  the  breeze  were  raised  by  the  women  ! 

That  the  reception  of  these  lion-like  men  (con- 
verted into  lambs  that  night)  was  hearty,  was 
evinced  by  the  thunders  of  applause  which  greeted 
every  reference  to  their  brave  deeds\  That  their 
reception  was  intensely  earnest,  was  made  plain  by 
the  scroll,  emblazoned  on  a  huge  banner  that 
spanned  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  bearing  the 
words,  "  God  bless  the  Lifeboat  Crews." 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          385 

"We  need  not  refer  to  the  viands  set  forth  on  that 
great  occasion.  Of  course  they  were  of  the  best. 
We  may  just  mention  that  they  included  "baccy  and 
grog!"  We  merely  record  the  fact.  Whether  buns 
and  tea  would  have  been  equally  effective  is  a  ques- 
tion not  now  under  consideration.  We  refrain  from 
expressing  an  opinion  on  that  point  here. 

Of  course  the  first  toast  was  the  Queen,  and  as 
Jack  always  does  everything  heartily,  it  need 
scarcely  be  said  that  this  toast  was  utterly  divested 
of  its  usual  formality  of  character.  The  chairman's 
appropriate  reference  to  her  Majesty's  well-known 
sympathy  with  the  distressed,  especially  with  those 
who  had  suffered  from  shipwreck,  intensified  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  loyal  lifeboat- men. 

A  band  of  amateur  Christy  Minstrels  (the  "  genu- 
ine original"  amateur  band,  of  course)  enlivened  the 
evening  with  appropriate  songs,  to  the  immense 
delight  of  all  present,  especially  of  Mr.  Eobert 
Queeker,  whose  passionate  love  for  music,  ever 
since  his  attendance  at  the  singing-class,  long  long 
ago,  had  strengthened  with  time  to  such  an  extent 
that  language  fails  to  convey  any  idea  of  it  It 
mattered  not  to  Queeker  whether  the  music  were 
good  or  bad.  Sufficient  for  him  that  it  carried  him 
back,  with  a  gush,  to  that  dear  temple  of  music  in 
Yarmouth  where  the  learners  were  perpetually 
checked  at  critical  points,  and  told  by  their  callous 
2  B 


386  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

teacher  (tormentor,  we  had  almost  written)  to  "  try 
it  again  !"  and  where  he  first  beheld  the  perplexing 
and  beautiful  Fanny. 

When  the  toast  of  the  evening  was  given — 
"  Success  to  the  Ramsgate  Lifeboat," — it  was,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  received  with  deafening  cheers  and 
enthusiastic  waving  of  handkerchiefs  from  the  gal- 
lery in  which  the  fair  sex  were  accommodated, 
among  which  handkerchiefs  Queeker,  by  turning  his 
head  very  much  round,  tried  to  see,  and  believed 
that  he  saw,  the  precious  bit  of  cambric  wherewith 
Fanny  Hennings  was  accustomed  to  salute  her  tran- 
scendental nose.  The  chairman  spoke  with  enthusiasm 
of  the  noble  deeds  accomplished  by  the  Eamsgate 
lifeboat  in  time  past,  and  referred  with  pride,  and 
with  a  touch  of  feeling,  to  the  brave  old  coxswain, 
then  present  (loud  cheers),  who  had  been  compelled, 
by  increasing  years,  to  resign  a  service  which,  they  all 
knew  better  than  he  did,  taxed  the  energies,  courage, 
and  endurance  of  the  stoutest  and  youngest  man 
among  them  to  the  uttermost.  He  expressed  a  firm 
belief  in  the  courage  and  prowess  of  the  coxswain  who 
had  succeeded  him  (renewed  cheers),  and  felt  assured 
that  the  success  of  the  boat  in  time  to  come  would  at 
the  least  fully  equal  its  successes  in  time  past.  He 
then  referred  to  some  of  the  more  prominent  achieve- 
ments of  the  boat,  especially  to  a  night  which  all  of 
them  must  remember,  seven  years  ago,  when  the 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          387 

Eamsgate  boat,  with  the  aid  of  the  steam -tug,  was 
the  means  of  saving  so  many  lives — not  to  mention 
property — and  among  others  the  life  of  their  brave 
townsman,  James  Welton  (cheers),  and  a  young 
doctor,  the  friend,  and  now  the  son-in-law,  of  one 
whose  genial  spirit  and  extensive  charities  were 
well  known  and  highly  appreciated — he  referred  to 
Mr.  George  Dur^nt  (renewed  cheers),  whose  niece 
at  that  moment  graced  the  gallery  with  her  presence. 

At  this  there  was  a  burst  of  loud  and  prolonged 
applause  which  terminated  in  a  roar  of  laughter, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  Mr.  Queeker,  cheering  and 
waving  his  hands  in  a  state  of  wild  enthusiasm, 
knocked  the  neck  off  a  bottle  of  wine  and  flooded 
the  table  in  his  immediate  vicinity !  Covered  with 
confusion,  Queeker  sat  down  amid  continued  laughter 
and  rapturous  applause. 

The  chairman  then  went  on  to  say  that  the  event 
to  which  he  had  referred — the  rescue  of.  the  crew 
and  passengers  of  the  Wellington  on  the  night  of 
the  great  storm — had  been  eclipsed  by  some  of  the 
more  recent  doings  of  the  same  boat;  and,  after 
touching  upon  some  of  these,  said  that,  although  they 
had  met  there  to  do  honour  to  the  crews  of  their 
own  lifeboat,  they  must  not  forget  other  and 
neighbouring  lifeboats,  which  did  their  work 
nobly — the  brave  crews  of  which  were  represented 
by  the  coxswains  of  the  Margate  and  Broadstairs 


388  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

lifeboats,  who  sat  at  that  board  that  night  as  hon- 
oured guests  (loud  cheers,  during  which  several  of 
the  men  nearest  to  them  shook  hands  with  the  cox- 
swains referred  to).  He  could  not — the  chairman 
went  on  to  say — sit  down  without  making  special 
reference  to  the  steam-tug,  without  which,  and  the 
courage  as  well  as  knowledge  of  her  master,  mate, 
and  crew  (renewed  cheers),  the  lifeboat  could  not 
overtake  a  tenth  part  of  the  noble  work  which  she 
annually  accomplished.  He  concluded  by  praying 
that  a  kind  Providence  would  continue  to  watch 
over  and  bless  the  Ramsgate  lifeboat  and  her  crew. 

We  need  scarcely  add  that  this  toast  was  drunk 
with  enthusiastic  applause,  and  that  it  was  followed 
up  by  the  amateur  minstrels  with  admirable  effect. 

Many  songs  were  sung,  and  many  toasts  were 
proposed  that  night,  and  warm  was  the  expression  of 
feeling  towards  the  men  who  were  ever  so  ready  to 
imperil  their  lives  in  the  hope  of  saving  those  of 
their  fellow-creatures,  and  who  had  already,  often- 
times, given  such  ample  proof  that  they  were 
thoroughly  able  to  do,  as  well  as  to  dare,  almost 
anything.  Several  singers  with  good,  and  one  or 
two  with  splendid,  voices,  gave  a  variety  of 
songs  which  greatly  enhanced  the  brilliancy  of  the 
evening,  and  were  highly  appreciated  in  the  gallery ; 
and  a  few  bad  singers  with  miserable  voices  (who 
volunteered  their  songs)  did  really  good  service  by 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          389 

impressing  ou  the  audience  very  forcibly  the  im- 
mense difference  between  good  and  bad  music,  and 
thus  kindly  acted  as  shadows  to  the  vocal  lights 
of  the  evening — as  useful  touches  of  discord  in  the 
general  harmony  \vhich  by  contrast  rendered  the 
latter  all  the  sweeter. 

But  of  all  the  solos  sung  that  night  none  afforded 
such  delight  a$  a  national  melody  sung  by  our  friend 
Jerry  MacGowl,  in  a  voice  that  rang  out  like  the 
voices  of  three  first-class  bo's'ns  rolled  into  one. 
That  worthy  son  of  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  Dick 
Moy,  and  Jack  Shales,  happened  to  be  enjoying  their 
month  on  shore  when  the  supper  to  the  lifeboat-men 
was  planned,  and  they  were  all  there  in  virtue  of 
their  having  been  instrumental  in  saving  life  on 
more  than  one  occasion  during  their  residence  in 
Eamsgate.  Jerry's  song  was,  as  we  have  said, 
highly  appreciated,  but  the  applause  with  which  it 
was  greeted  was  as  nothing  compared  with  the 
shouts  and  cheers  that  shook  the  roof  of  St.  James's 
Hall,  when,  on  being  asked  to  repeat  it,  Jerry, 
modestly  said  that  he  "would  prefer  to  give  them  a 
duet — perhaps  it  was  a  trayo — av  his  mates  Jack 
Shales  and  Dick  Moy  would  only  strike  in  wid 
bass  and  tenor." 

The  men  of  the  floating  light  then  sang  "  The 
Minute-Gun  at  Sea "  magnificently,  each  taking  the 
part  that  suited  him  best  or  struck  his  fancy  at  the 


390  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

moment,  and  Jerry  varying  from  tenor  to  bass  and 
bass  to  treble  according  to  taste. 

"Now,  Mister  Chairman,"  said  the  bold  Jerry 
MacGowl,  when  the  cheers  had  subsided,  "it's 
my  turn  to  call  for  a  song,  so  I  ax  Mr.  Queeker  to 
favour  the  company  wid — "  Thunders  of  applause 
drowned  the  remainder  of  the  sentence. 

Poor  Queeker  was  thrown  into  great  confusion, 
*nd  sought  to  explain  that  he  could  not  sing,  even 
in  private — much  less  in  public. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can,  sir.  Try  it,  sir,  no  fear  of  'ee. 
Sure  it 's  yourself  as  can  do  it,  an'  no  mistake,"  were 
the  remarks  with  which  his  explanation  was  inter- 
rupted. 

"  I  assure  you  honestly,"  cried  Queeker,  "  that  I 
cannot  sing,  lut "  (here  breathless  silence  ensued)  "  if 
the  chairman  will  kindly  permit  me,  I  will  give  you 
a  toast." 

Loud  cheers  from  all  sides,  and  a  good-humoured 
nod  from  the  chairman  greeted  this  announcement. 

"  Mr.  Chairman  and  Friends/'  said  Queeker,  "  the 
ladies  have — "  A  perfect  storm  of  laughter  and 
cheers  interrupted  him  for  at  least  two  minutes. 

"  Yes,"  resumed  Queeker,  suddenly  blazing  up 
with  enthusiasm,  "  I  repeat — the  ladies — " 

"  That 's  the  girls,  blissin's  on  the  swate  daiiints," 
murmured  Jerry  in  a  tone  which  set  the  whole 
table  again  in  a  roar. 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  391 

"  I  echo  the  sentiment ;  blessings  on  them,"  said 
Queeker,  with  a  good-humoured  glance  at  Jerry. 
"  Yes,  as  I  was  going  to  say,  I  propose  the  Ladies, 
who  are,  always  were,  and  ever  will  be,  the  solace 
of  man's  life,  the  sweet  drops  in  his  otherwise  bitter 
cup,  the  lights  in  his  otherwise  dark  dwelling,  the 
jewels  in  his — in  his — crown,  and  the  bright  stars 
that  glitter  in  the  otherwise  dark  firmament  of  his 
destiny  (vociferous  cheering).  Yes,"  continued 
Queeker,  waxing  more  and  more  energetic,  and 
striking  the  table  with  his  fist,  whereby  he  over- 
turned his  neighbour's  glass  of  grog,  "  yes,  I  re-assert 
it — the  ladies  are  all  that,  and  much  more  !  (Hear, 
hear.)  I  propose  their  health — and,  after  all,  I  may 
be  said  to  have  some  sort  of  claim  to  do  so,  having 
already  unintentionally  poured  a  whole  bottle  of 
wine  on  the  tablecloth  as  a  libation  to  them ! 
(Laughter  and  applause.)  What,  I  ask,"  continued 
Queeker,  raising  his  voice  and  hand  at  the  same 
moment,  and  setting  his  hair  straight  upon  end, 
"  what,  I  ask,  would  man  be  without  the  ladies  ?" 
("What  indeed?"  said  a  voice  near  the  foot  of  the 
table,  which  called  forth  another  burst  of  laughter.) 
"  Just  try  to  think,  my  friends,  what  would  be  the 
hideous  gloom  of  this  terrestrial  ball  if  there  were  no 
girls  !  Oh  woman !  softener  of  man's  rugged  nature ! 
What — in  the  words  of  the  poet  (he  carefully  re- 
frained from  saying  what  poet !) — 


392  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  What  were  earth  and  all  its  joys  ; 
What  were  wealth  with  all  its  toys  ; 
What  the  life  of  men  and  boys 

But  for  lovely  woman  ? 

What  if  mothers  were  no  more ; 
If  wives  and  sisters  fled  our  shore, 
And  left  no  sweethearts  to  the  fore — 

No  sign  of  darling  woman  ? 

What  dreary  darkness  would  ensue— 
What  moral  wastes  devoid  of  dew — 
If  no  strong  hearts  of  men  like  you 

Beat  for  charming  woman  ? 

Who  would  rise  at  duty's  call ; 
Who  would  fight  to  win  or  fall ; 
Who  would  care  to  live  at  all, 

Were  it  not  for  woman  ? " 

Prolonged  and  rapturous  cheers  greeted  this  effusion, 
in  the  midst  of  which  the  enthusiastic  Jerry  Mac- 
Gowl  sprang  to  his  feet,  waved  his  glass  above  his 
head — spilling  half  of  its  contents  on  the  pate  of  a 
bald  skipper  who  sat  next  to  him — and  cheered 
lustily. 

"  Men  of  the  Eamsgate  lifeboat,"  shouted  Queeker, 
"  I  call  on  you  to  pledge  the  ladies — with  all  the 
honours !" 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  call  was 
responded  to  with  a  degree  of  enthusiasm  that 
threatened,  as  Dick  Moy  said  to  Jack  Shales,  "  to 
smash  all  the  glasses  an'  blow  the  roof  off."  In  the 
midst  of  the  noise  and  confusion  Queeker  left  the 
hall,  ascended  to  the  gallery,  and  sat  himself  down 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          393 

beside  Fanny   Hennings,  with   an  air   of  intense 
decision. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Queeker !"  exclaimed  Fanny. 

"  Listen,  Fanny,"  said  the  tall  uncle  at  that 
moment,  "  they  are  giving  one  of  the  most  important 
toasts  of  the  evening — The  Eoyal  National  Lifeboat 
Institution." 

Fanny  tried  to  listen,  and  had  caught  a  few  words, 
when  she  felt  her  hand  suddenly  seized  and  held 
fast.  Turning  her  head  quickly,  she  beheld  the  face 
of  Queeker  turned  to  bright  scarlet. 

What  more  she  heard  or  saw  after  that  it  would 
be  extremely  difficult  to  tell  Perhaps  the  best 
way  of  conveying  an  idea  of  it  is  to  lay  before  the 
reader  the  short  epistle  which  Fanny  penned  that 
same  night  to  her  old  friend  Katie  Hall.  It  ran 
thus : — 

"  RAMSGATE. 

"  OH,  KATIE  !  DARLING  KATIE  ! — He  has  done  it 
at  last !  Dear  fellow  !  And  so  like  himself  too — 
so  romantically,  so  poetically !  They  were  toasting 
the  Lifeboat  Institution  at  the  time.  He  seized  my 
hand.  '  Fanny,'  he  said,  in  the  deep  manly  tones  in 
which  he  had  just  made  the  most  brilliant  speech 
of  the  evening,  'Fanny,  my  love — my  life — my 
lifeboat — will  you  have  me?  will  you  save  me? 
There  was  a  dreadful  noise  at  the  time — a  very 
storm  of  cheering.  The  whole  room  seemed  in  a 


394  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

whirl.  My  head  was  in  a  whirl  too ;  and  oh !  how 
my  heart  beat !  I  don't  know  what  I  said.  I 
fear  I  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  and  then  cried, 
and  dear  uncle  carried  me  out — but  it's  all  over 
now.  That  darling  Lifeboat  Institution,  I  shall 
never  forget  it ;  for  they  were  sounding  its  praises 
at  the  very  moment  when  my  Queeker  and  I  got 
into  the  same  boat — for  life  ! — -Your  happy 

"  FANNY." 

To  this  the  next  post  brought  the  following 
reply : — 

"  YARMOUTH. 

"  MY  DEAREST  FANNY, — Is  it  necessary  for  me  to 
say  that  your  last  short  letter  has  filled  my  heart 
with  joy  ?  It  has  cleared  up  a  mystery  too !  On 
Tuesday  last,  in  the  forenoon,  Mr.  Queeker  came  by 
appointment  to  take  lunch  with  us,  and  Stanley 
happened  to  mention  that  a  supper  was  to  be  given 
to  the  Eamsgate  lifeboat-men,  and  that  he  had  heard 
y-)u  were  to  be  there.  During  lunch,  Mr.  Queeker 
was  very  absent  and  restless,  and  appeared  to  be 
unhappy.  At  last  he  started  up,  made  some  hurried 
apology  about  the  train  for  the  south,  and  having 
urgent  business  to  transact,  looked  at  his  watch,  and 
rushed  out  of  the  house  !  We  could  not  understand 
it  at  the  time,  but  I  knew  that  he  had  only  a  few 
minutes  left  to  catch  the  train  for  the  south,  and  I 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          395 

now  know  that  he  caught  it — and  why !  Ah, 
Fanny,  did  I  not  always  assure  you  that  he  would 
do  it  in  desperation  at  last !  My  earnest  prayer  is, 
that  your  wedded  life  may  be  as  happy  as  mine  has 
hitherto  been. 

"  When  your  honeymoon  is  over,  you  must  pro- 
mise to  pay  us  a  visit.  You  know  that  our  villa  is 
sufficiently  far  out  of  town  to  warrant  your  regard- 
ing us  in  the  light  of  country  friends ;  and  Stanley 
bids  me  say  that  he  will  take  no  denial.  Papa — 
who  is  at  present  romping  round  the  room  with  my 
eldest  boy  on  his  shoulders,  so  that  I  scarce  know 
what  I  write — bids  me  tell  you,  with  his  kind  love 
and  hearty  congratulations,  that  he  thinks  you  are 
'  not  throwing  yourself  away,  for  that  Queeker  is  a 
first-rate  little  fellow,  and  a  rising  man  !'  Observe, 
please,  that  I  quote  papa's  own  words. 

"  I  must  stop  abruptly,. because  a  tiny  cry  from  the 
nursery  informs  me  thab  King  Baby  is  awake,  and 
demands  instant  attention ! — With  kindest  love  and 
congratulations,  your  ever  affectionate, 

"KATIE  HALL." 


396  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 


CHAPTEE    XXIV. 


CONCLUSION. 


ONCE  again,  and  for  the  last  time,  we  visit  the 
floating  light. 

It  was  a  calm  sunny  evening,  about  the  end  of 
autumn,  when  the  Trinity  tender,  having  effected 
"the  relief"  of  the  old  Gull,  left  her  in  order  to 
perform  the  same  service  for  her  sister  light-vessels. 

"  Good-bye,  Welton,  good-bye,  lads,"  cried  the 
superintendent,  waving  his  hand  as  the  tender's 
boat  pushed  off  and  left  them,  for  another  period  of 
duty,  in  their  floating  home. 

"  Good-bye,  sir,"  replied  the  mate  and  men,  touch- 
ing their  caps. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Dick  Moy  to  the  mate,  shortly 
after,  when  they  were  all,  except  the  watch,  as- 
sembled below  round  the  galley  stove,  "  are  you  goin' 
to  let  us  'ave  a  bit  o'  that  there  letter,  accordin'  to 
promise  ? " 

"  What  letter  ? "  inquired  Jack  Shales,  who  having 


OF  TIIE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  397 

only  accomplished  half  of  his  period  of  service  on 
board — one  month — had  not  come  off  with  his 
comrades,  and  knew  .little  or  nothing  of  what  had 
occurred  on  shore. 

"  A  letter  from  the  lighthouse  from  Jim,"  said 
the  mate,  lighting  his  pipe ;  "  received  it  this  fore- 
noon just  as  we  were  gettin'  ready  to  come  off." 

"  All  well  and  hearty,  I  hope  ? "  asked  Jerry  Mac- 
Gowl,  seating  himself  on  a  bench,  and  rolling  some 
tobacco  between  his  palms,  preparatory  to  filling 
his  pipe. 

"  All  well,"  replied  the  mate,  pulling  out  the  letter 
in  question,  and  regarding  the  address  with  much 
interest ;  "  an'  strange  news  in  it." 

"Well,  then,  let's  'ear  wot  it's  all  about,"  said 
Dick  Moy ;  "  there 's  time  to  read  it  afore  sunset,  an' 
it  ain't  fair  to  keep  fellers  in  all  the  hagonies  of 
hexpectation." 

"That's  true  enough,"  said  Jerry  with  a  grin. 
"  Arrah !  it 's  bustin  I  am  already  wid  kooriosity. 
Heave  ahead,  sir,  an'  be  marciful." 

Thus  entreated,  Mr.  "Welton  glanced  at  his  watch, 
sat  down,  and,  opening  his  letter,  read  as  follows  : — 

"DEAR  FATHER, — Here  we  are,  thank  God,- com- 
fortably settled  in  the  new  lighthouse,  and  Nora  and 
I  both  agree  that  although  it  is  more  outlandish,  it 
is  much  more  cheerful  in  every  way  than  our  last 
abode,  although  it  is  very  wild-like,  and  far  from 


398  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

the  mainland.  Billy  Towler,  my  assistant, — who 
has  become  such  a  strapping  fellow  that  you'd 
scarce  know  him, — is  also  much  pleased  with  it. 
The  children,  too,  give  a  decided  opinion  in  favour 
of  the  place,  and  even  the  baby,  little  Morley, 
seems  to  know  that  he  has  made  a  change  for  the 
better ! 

"  Baby's  name  brings  me  to  the  news  that  I  've 
got  to  tell  you.  Morley  Jones  has  come  back ! 
You  '11  be  surprised  to  hear  that,  I  daresay,  but  it 's 
a  fact.  He  got  a  ticket-of- leave,  and  never  rested 
till  he  found  out  where  Nora  was.  He  came  to  us 
one  evening  some  time  ago,  and  fell  down  in  a  sort 
of  fit  close  to  the  lighthouse- door,  while  Nora  was 
sitting  in  front  of  it,  and  the  children  were  romping 
with  -Neptune  beside  her.  Poor  fellow !  he  was  so 
changed,  so  old,  and  so  white-haired  and  worn,  that 
we  did  not  know  him  at  first ;  but  after  we  had 
washed  the  blood  off  his  face — for  he  had  cut  himself 
when  he  fell — I  recognised  the  old  features. 

"  But  he  is  changed  in  other  respects  too,  in  a  \vay 
that  has  filled  my  dear  wife's  heart  with  joy.  Of 
course  you  are  aware  that  he  got  no  drink  during 
the  seven  years  of  his  imprisonment.  Now  that  he 
is  free  he  refuses  to  let  a  drop  of  anything  stronger 
than  water  pass  his  lips.  He  thinks  it  is  his  only 
chance,  and  I  believe  he  is  right.  He  says  that  no- 
thing but  the  thought  of  Nora,  and  the  hope  of  one 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          399 

day  being  permitted  to  return  to  ask  her  forgiveness 
on  his  knees,  enabled  him  to  endure  his  long  captivity 
with  resignation.  I  dp  assure  you,  father,  that  it 
almost  brings  tears  to  my  eyes  to  see  the  way  in 
which  that  man  humbles  himself  before  his  daughter. 
Nora's  joy  is  far  too  deep  for  words,  but  it  is  written 
plainly  in  her  face.  She  spent  all  her  spare  time 
with  him  at  first,  reading  the  Bible  to  him,  and  try- 
ing to  convince  him  that  it  was  not  the  thought  of 
her,  but  God's  mercy  "and  love  that  had  put  it  into 
his  heart  to  repent,  and  desire  to  reform.  He  does 
not  seem  quite  inclined  to  take  that  view  of  it,  but 
he  will  come  to  it,  sooner  or  later,  for  we  have  the 
sure  promise  that  the  Lord  will  finish  the  good  work 
He  has  begun.  "We  have  hired  a  room  for  him  in  a 
little  village  within  half  a  mile  of  us.  It  is  small, 
but  comfortable  enough,  and  he  seems  to  be  quite 
content  with  it — as  well  he  may  be,  with  Nora  and 
the  children  going  constantly  about  him ! 

"  I  tell  you  what,  father,  the  longer  I  live  with 
Nora,  the  more  I  feel  that  I  have  got  the  truest- 
hearted  and  most  loveable  wife  in  all  the  wide  world ! 
The  people  of  the  village  would  go  any  length  to 
serve  her ;  and  as  to  their  children,  I  believe  they 
worship  the  ground  she  walks  on,  as  Jerry  Mac- 
Gowl  used  to  say." 

"Och,  the  idolatrous  haythens  !"  growled  Jerry. 

"  And  the  way  she  manages  our  dear  youngsters," 


400  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

continued  the  mate,  reading  on,  without  noticing 
Jerry's  interruption,  "  would  do  your  heart  good  to 
see.  It  reminds  me  of  Dick  Moy's  wife,  who  is 
about  the  best  mother  I  ever  met  with — next  to 
Nora,  of  course!" 

"Humph  !"  said  Dick,  with  a  grim  smile;  "  wery 
complimentary.  I  wonder  wot  my  old  ooman  will 
say  to  that?'/ 

"  She  '11  say,  no  doubt,  that  she  '11  expect  you  to 
take  example  by  Jim  Welton  when  speaking  of 
your  wife,"  observed  Jack  Shales.  "  I  wonder,  Dick, 
what  ever  could  have  induced  Mrs.  Moy  to  marry 
such  a  fellow  as  you  ?" 

"  I  s'pose,"  retorted  Dick,  lighting  his  pipe,  "  that 
it  was  to  escape  the  chance  o'  bein'  tempted,  in  a 
moment  of  weakness,  to  marry  the  likes  o'  you!' 

"  Hear,  hear,"  cried  MacGowl,  "  that 's  not  un- 
likely, Dick.  An',  sure,  she  might  have  gone  farther 
an'  fared  worse.  You  're  a  good  lump  of  a  man,  any- 
how ;  though  you  haven't  much  to  boast  of  in  the 
way  of  looks.  Howsevef,  it  seems  to  me  that  looks 
don't  go  far  wid  sensible  girls.  Faix,  the  uglier  a 
man  is,  it's  the  better  chance  he  has  o'  gittin'  a 
purty  wife.  I  have  a  brother,  myself,  who 's  a  dale 
uglier  than  the  figurhead  of  an  owld  Dutch  galliot, 
an'  he 's  married  the  purtiest  little  girl  in  Ireland, 
he  has." 

"  If  ye  want  to  hear  the  end  of  Jim's  letter,  boys, 


OF  SHE  GOODWIN  SANDS.          401 

you  M  better  shut  up  your  potato-traps,"  interposed 
Mr.  Welton. 

"  That 's  true — fire  away,"  said  Shales. 

The  mate  continued  to  read. 

"  You  '11  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  old  dog  Neptune 
is  well  and  hearty.  He  is  a  great  favourite  here, 
especially  with  the  children.  Billy  Towler  has 
taught  him  a  number  of  tricks — among  other  things 
he  can  dive  like  a  seal,  and  has  no  objection 
whatever  to  let  little  Morley  choke  him  or  half 
punch  out  his  eyes.  Tell  mother  not  to  be  uneasy 
on  that  point,  for  though  Neptune  has  the  heart  of 
a  lion  he  has  the  temper  of  a  lamb. 

"  There  is  an  excellent  preacher,  belonging  to  the 
"Wesleyan  body,  who  comes  here  occasionally  on 
Sundays,  and  has  worship  in  the  village.  He  is  not 
much  of  a  preacher,  but  he's  an  earnest,  God-fear- 
ing man,  and  has  made  the  name  of  Jesus  dear  to 
some  of  the  people  here,  who,  not  long  ago,  were 
quite  careless  about  their  souls.  Careless  about 
their  souls  !  Oh,  father,  how  often  I  think  of  that, 
now.  How  strange  it  seems  that  we  should  ever 
be  thus  careless  !  What  should  we  say  of  the 
jeweller  who  would  devote  all  his  time  and  care  to 
the  case  that  held  his  largest  diamond,  and  neglect 
the  gem  itself?  Nora  has  got  up  a  Sunday  school  at 
the  village,  and  Billy  helps  her  with  it.  The  Grotto 
did  wonders  for  him — so  he  says  himself. 
20 


402  THE  FLOATING  LIGHT 

"  I  must  close  this  letter  sooner  tlian  I  intended, 
for  I  hear  Nora's  voice,  like  sweet  music  in  the  dis- 
tance,   singing  out  that  dinner  is  ready;  andif  I 
keep  the  youngsters  waiting  long,  they  '11  sing  out 
in  a  sharper  strain  of  melody ! 

"  So  now,  father,  good-bye  for  the  present.  We 
all  unite  in  sending  our  warmest  love  to  dear  mother 
and  yourself.  Kindest  remembrances  also  to  my 
friends  in  the  floating  light.  As  much  of  my 
heart  as  Nora  and  the  children  can  spare  is  on  board 
of  the  old  Gull.  May  God  bless  you  all — Your 
affectionate  son,  JAMES  WELTON." 

"  The  sun  will  be  down  in  a  few  minutes,  sir," 
said  the  watch,  looking  down  the  hatchway,  while  the 
men  were  engaged  in  commenting  on  Jim's  letter. 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  the  mate,  glancing  at  his 
timepiece,  as  he  went  on  deck. 

The  upper  edge  of  the  sun  was  just  visible  above 
the  horizon,  gleaming  through  the  haze  like  a  speck 
of  ruddy  fire.  The  shipping  in  the  Downs  rested  on 
a  sea  so  calm  that  each  rope  and  mast  and  yard  wa3 
faithfully  reflected.  liamsgate — with  the  exception 
of  its  highest  spires — was  overshadowed  by  the 
wing  of  approaching  night.  The  Goodwin  Sands 
were  partially  uncovered ;  looking  calm  arid  harm- 
less enough,  with  only  a  snowy  ripple  on  their 
northern  extremity,  where  they  were  gently  kissed 


OF  THE  GOODWIN  SANDS.  403 

by  the  swell  of  the  North  Sea,  and  with  nothing, 
save  a  riven  stump  or  a  half-buried  stem-post,  to 
tell  of  the  storms  and  wrecks  with  which  their  name 
is  so  sadly  associated. 

All  around  breathed  of  peace  and  tranquillity 
when  the  mate,  Having  cast  a  searching  glance  round 
the  horizon,  leaned  over  the  hatchway  and  shouted — 

"  Lights  up !" 

The  customary  "Ay,  ay,  sir,"  was  followed  by  the 
prompt  appearance  of  the  crew.  The  winch  was 
manned,  the  signal  given,  and,  just  as  the  sun  went 
down,  the  floating  light  went  up,  to  scatter  its  guid- 
ing and  warning  beams  far  and  wide  across  the 
darkening  waste  of  water. 

May  our  little  volume  prove  a  truthful  reflector 
to  catch  up  a  few  of  those  beams,  and,  diverting 
them  from  their  legitimate  direction,  turn  them  in 
upon  the  shore  to  enlighten  the  mind  and  tickle  the 
fancy  of  those  who  dwell  upon  the  land — and  thus, 
perchance,  add  another  thread  to  the  bond  of  sym- 
pathy already  existing  between  them  and  those 
whose  lot  it  is  to  battle  with  the  winds,  and  live 
upon  the  sea. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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EEB  1 6  1955 


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